


A Letter to Lady Stark

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows nothing, Love Letters, Maybe - Freeform, Queen Arya, Wooing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgive my lack of talent for refinement. You know me. I’ve never been good with words. This letter is both my marriage proposal to you as it is the most practical way for me to know about your thoughts on the matter. Here I am, on my knees asking you to be my life companion and my most trusted advisor, to be the friend you had always been to me back when times were simpler and we were happier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Odd as it may seems, it all began with a letter that should not exist. Even Bran was startled with it and angry to some degree, but what was done was done and it was her prerogative to decide her own fate.

She read it again, as if there was something to be deciphered in the lines of Jon’s harsh calligraphy. If there was any chance that it might be a joke, but king or not she doubted that Jon would ever jape about such a thing.

_“Sweet cousin, my dearest Arya,_

_Will there ever be a day when I shall get used to this new nomenclature, I wonder. I have no idea, nor do I know if you find it to be as awkward as I do._

_I write to you with the feeble hope that you might enlighten me about the path that as king I must follow. I trust you to not speak of this matter with anyone until you have made up your mind. I trust you and you are far too dear to me, therefore I own you the truth about my current situation and the reason why I’ll ask you a difficult question._

_I must marry and find myself a queen. I never thought I would ever be someone’s husband, or father, or king for that matter. Now I must be all of this for the sake of the realm. I still don’t know why I am bothering you with these futile complains, but here I am. Expecting for the worst and hoping for the best._

_There are a number of candidates I should consider. Ladies from all parts of the country and beyond, but most of them I’ve never seen. I cannot chose someone based on some qualities conveniently appointed to me by ambitious councilors, especially when I should come to love and respect the woman by my side._

_Among the names presented to me, yours was mentioned with insistent reminds of how valuable such an alliance would be. I cannot tell you in words how much it shocked me to realize that we are no longer brother and sister. I knew it, of course. I just never realized how much this change of familial status could affect my life and yours, if you are to agree with what I have in mind._

_Forgive my lack of talent for refinement. You know me. I’ve never been good with words. This letter is both my marriage proposal to you as it is the most practical way for me to know about your thoughts on the matter. Here I am, on my knees asking you to be my life companion and my most trusted advisor, to be the friend you had always been to me back when times were simpler and we were happier._

_If I know you at all, you’ve just bit your bottom lip. I hope you haven’t changed in that. I’m aware that we are no longer those children engaged in snowballs’ fights. We have grown and done things we would rather not in order to survive. Things I dare not name, nor will I ever ask you to do so unless you want to tell me. Still, you are the only one I already love and respect, perhaps not as man loves a woman, but my feelings are no less powerful._

_You are within your right to refuse my proposal, if so you want. Forget that I ever sent you this letter or sent me your reasons to refuse and we will never talk about it again. I ask you only to think about it, and consider what I’m offering you._

_We both know that Bran will think about a marriage to you soon or later. He needs to and there’s little to be done about it. You will always have a friend in me, someone who bares the deepest affection and respect for you. I’m far from being a prince from songs, but I’m still young and closer to your age than most of the suitors might be. I’m offering you a familiar place, a home, and all the comforts you might desire. I bet this is something that might weigh your decision after so many years wandering without feeling safe and craving for a place to call home. The gods know that I’ve missed those simple things and odd as it may sound, your face smiling at me was my idea of home._

_I’m aware of the things you would have to sacrifice and how life at court can be tiresome. I know how difficult it would be for you think of me and accept me as your husband. If only we all had the Targaryen name to ease our consciences. I wonder if there’s any other man that already seized your affections. If there is, I hope he treats you as the queen you should be._

_Take your time to think about what I’m offering you. Regardless to what my advisors might say, I can be refused and in this matter my ultimate priority is not the kingdom, but you. You, Arya of House Stark, have the power to deny the king if so you wish._

_Nevertheless, if by some sort of miracle you accept my offer and have me for your husband, I vow to you that your happiness will always be my aim. If that is your decision, talk to Sam and he will take care of the formalities._

_Think carefully, my dearest._

_Yours,_

_Jon”_.

Those words have been hunting her dreams since Sam arrived at Winterfell. For days she wasn’t able to sleep, or think properly, therefore Arya Stark had no answer to give. Jon’s words made little sense to her hyperactive mind.

She had never been the kind of person that takes a lifetime to make up her mind. Time was far too precious to be lost with endless thinking. She could not give Jon an answer, at least not without understanding fully what he was asking. She needed good reasons and more than a cold piece of parchment before she could ever come up with a good answer.

What she needed, what she wanted, was to look at him in the eyes and see the truth behind the nonsense. Jon had never been able to lie to her, no matter what. Although the war had changed them much, Arya doubted that he would ever become a good liar.

She decided to go to the capitol and no one would ever stop her of doing so. To her surprise, Bran never presented any kind of obstacle.

“So he told you.” He had said in an annoyed tone, as if it wasn’t on his plans to deal with her reaction to that letter.

“You knew it?” She had asked out of surprise.

“That he would tell you and ask your opinion on the matter? I feared it. About the proposal, the choice was quite obvious, really. He needs support from old families, it happens that we are blood connected to four important houses now and you are my only unmarried sister. His advisors must be pestering him for months now.”

“Never crossed your mind to ask about my opinion? To tell me about it?” It had been hard not to feel betrayed by him, although Bran looked at her with blunt concern.

“I didn’t know how to approach the subject. Anyway, I found out that maybe I shouldn’t be the one you tell you. It is not my favorite solution to Jon’s need of support, but I admit that it’s a pretty practical one. As much as it hurts me sometimes, I am Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I need to think about what is best for our people even when one of my own kin must be sacrificed in the process. I haven’t said anything to you because it was not decided yet. Jon was reluctant, but now he seems to have made up his mind.”

“Do you agree with it?” She had asked plainly.

“Not all of us have the power to deny a king. I would not be able to oppose to the union if he had decided to have you. I would be able to negotiate terms, but that would be that. He asked you, though. He is concerned about your happiness and your feelings, as he had always been. It’s infuriating sometimes how he and father had always granted you whatever you wanted.” Bran had looked at her carefully. “If you haven’t decided yet, I beg you to think about the big picture. How important it would be to our family. Politics aside, unless you are already in love with some peasant or something just as rebellious, Jon is the best suitor you could wish for.”

“Because he is king? Because we know him since forever and literally grew up calling him brother?”

“No. Believe me, I understand your indignation. I don’t want to send you to the bed of a man we called brother, but he is trustworthy and honorable. More than that I’m convinced that he loves you to the point of putting the politics of the realm in jeopardy for the sake of your happiness. This is exactly what his father did. I just hope you to be smarter than Lyanna were, to think about what happens outside these walls and prevent future conflicts. Since he gave you such an amount of power, you are free to pretend that he is nothing but a man. Even without a crown, he is someone you respect and adore since you learned to talk. What else do you want, sister?”

She had no answer for that either. What she wanted from a man? She didn’t even know what she wanted to do with her life now that the war was over. She went from a noble girl, to an orphan, to a wonderer, to an assassin, to a general, to…a lady again. She had no purpose, no distraction, and no aim. Arya was forced to live a day at time, without much enthusiasm or expectation.

That was probably the main reason for her to endeavor on a journey to the capitol. Although a part of her feared that Jon might have lost his mind after the coronation, she had to hear the reasons for the proposal from his own mouth if she was to consider it seriously.

Sam agreed to take her with him. Actually, he was pretty excited with the perspective of a royal wedding and all the things that such an event implicated. Arya never told him that she hadn’t decided what to do yet. She was not even prepared to face Jon after so many years separated. What kind of man proposed to a woman he hasn’t seen in nearly seven years?

The journey brought up all the sad memories of the last time she had traveled the King’s Road. She cried at night, thinking about Mycah, Lady and her own innocent heart that she had lost at such a young age at the Inn Of The Cross Road. At least this time Jon would be at the end of her journey, and that made her remember of something he had said to her when they parted. “Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.”

Almost a month traveling the King’s Road and the effects of the war could still be seen everywhere. Food was still at short supply, but with spring upon them, there was a sense of hope in the air. Maybe in one year, there would be a bountiful harvest, at the common people would once again find a way to rebuilt their lives.

At King’s Landing the scenario was totally different from the once she remembered. The city was gloomy and austere under Jon’s reign. Septons and septas could be seen everywhere, feeding the poor and tending to the sick and wounded. Widows and elder children from Flea Bottom had been employed by the crown to help in the city cleaning, strong man that hadn’t been affected by the war were busy rebuilding houses, and the city walls. It allowed them some income to provide their sustenance and avoid robbery and prostitution. Even the Red Keep seemed much more severe in its looks.

When she arrived at the Red Keep the sun was almost setting on the horizon. She asked where the king was almost immediately.

“Maybe my lady should change clothes before meeting with His Majesty. Jon is probably at the Throne Room, listening to petitioners.” Sam said while trying to recover his breath.

“How long those audiences usually take?” She asked sourly.

“The whole day mostly. Jon generally resumes the audiences when the sun had been gone for a while. After that he takes a light supper and goes straightly to bed. Lord Tyrion admires his determination, but often says that the king is trying to kill himself.”

“No surprises here. Jon had always been obstinate somehow. I must see him now. He can complain about my clothes and attitude as much as he wants later, but I can not afford waiting indefinitely for him to talk to me.” Arya sounded resolute when she started to make her way to the Throne Room, with Sam following her steps exasperated.

“Please, my lady! Wait until tomorrow! I shall have an audience settled by then.” Sam almost begged.

“The sun is setting already. He spent the whole day locked up at that room as you said. I’m doing the secretaries and petitioners a favor, releasing them from this endless meeting so they can go home to their families and get some rest.” She was adamant. “He can blame it on me later, but I haven’t come here to be locked up in a fancy room and only set eyes on him when Jon thinks it’s convenient.”

When she got to the Throne Room there were still a small crowd composed of secretaries and minor noblemen, tired and grumpy, impatiently waiting for the king to make a decision in a final case involving a group of farmers and some minor lord of the River Lands.

Arya had to open her way among the other lords that looked at her with strangeness given her masculine clothes and disarranged looks. She looked like a stable boy, or maybe an innkeeper, but that was something she would think about later. She had more important matters to discuss.

“Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell!” Sam shouted somewhere behind her and since she was the only woman in the room, it didn’t take much for the other to notice who she was and allow her to get close to the king. The petitioners silenced and the secretaries looked at both her and the king with astonishment.

It was the first time she set eyes on him since she was nine years old. Arya had this foolish idea the he wouldn’t have changed much, but how she had been wrong! There was no sign of the smooth faced boy she adored. On the Iron Throne stood a long dark haired man, with an unshaved face and fine dark clothes. He stood above the others, wearing a simple crown and looking tired.

“I believed I’ve heard enough about this case.” The king’s voice sounded in a definite tone. “I’ll analyze the details and give you my final word in the matter by the end of the next week. Until there, Lord Piper cannot take you out of your lands as he threatened. If so he does, he’ll risk paying a substantial fine to you. This audience is dismissed. I would rather talk with Lady Stark alone, so you can all leave us now. You too, Sam.”

It took a few minutes for them to be alone in the room. Jon took of his crown and let it resting on the Iron Throne before he came down to look properly at her.

The sever expression upon his face suddenly vanished, being replaced by an expression of awe and joy. He walked toward her as if he was a young boy again, anxious to be reunited with an old and dear friend.

“Why nobody told me you were coming to the capitol?” He asked sounding just too happy to actually care about his lack of information.

She tried to answer it with some amount of dignity and formality since he was the king, but Jon seemed to have forgotten about his rank. Before she could speak he hugged her tightly and warmly, as if they were still those children at Winterfell.

“I can't believe it’s you. I would have gone to Winterfell to escort you personally if you had just sent me your answer.” He said joyfully while Arya tried to decide if she should or not hug him back. She finally decided to embrace him awkwardly until she felt a bit more relaxed. “I have no words to say how happy you’ve made me. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m happy to see you to, Jon. Or is it Your Majesty now?” She asked when he finally released her. Jon smiled shyly.

“You can call me whatever you want when we are alone. In front of other, I’m afraid it will be only by my title.” He answered immediately. “But you don’t have to worry about it. Not now at least. We have so much to talk about.”

“Since we are alone, I guess I can say it without much of a fuss.” She said before taking a deep breath. “Are you mad?!”

It was only then that Jon realized that Arya wasn’t there to promptly accept his proposal. He put a respectable distance between them and his face was once more taken by a sober expression, while she looked at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry. I thought that your presence at the capitol could only mean that you have accepted my offer.” He said calmly. “You have all the right to be angry at me.”

“I’m not angry at you, stupid.” She answered in a way that made him crack a shy smile. It sounded just like when they were kids, but she noticed it too late. Arya took a deep breath before continue. “I’m not here to accept your offer either. I’m here to understand. Your letter gave me more questions than answers. If I am to consider your proposal seriously, you better start to explain yourself.”

“What exactly you want to know? Ask me and I’ll answer in the best way I can.” Jon said it.

“Why me, for gods’ sake?” She almost spat. “I’m not a good lady, you know that. I could never be a good queen, despite of my family connections.”

“I guess I’ve told you my reason, but I’ll answer you anyway. I have to take a wife and the reasons that make you an ideal candidate are quite obvious. It was Sansa to suggest it, as shocking as it may seem. Bran wasn’t exactly happy with the idea, but even he had to agree that the advantages evident.” Jon replied honestly. “Most of my advisors agree, but of course they never knew you as I did. You never had much talent to the role of a lady, but I disagree when you say that you are not suitable to be a queen. You have all the qualities I seek in a companion and your sudden appearance here just gave me more reason to believe so. You had always been honest with me and I trust you. I don’t care about how well mannered, or fashionable, or accomplished the candidates can be. I’m not seeking a woman to play the lute for me, or simply be a fertile ornament at court. I need help. I need someone able to cope with difficult situations, someone I can see as equal and that would never coward when confronted with a crisis.”

“You paint me with terribly romantic colors, Jon.” She sighted. “Assuming that everything you said is true, it would still be a troublesome arrangement. We haven’t seen each other in ages and as you said, we have done terrible things in order to survive. Will you be able to accept that I am far from being the innocent girl you once knew? Are you ready to deal with the bloody woman I’ve become?”

“As long as you are ready to do the same for me.” His voice was serene and also resolute, she noticed. Jon seemed to be painfully aware of what he was asking. “I cannot afford entering in a marriage without knowing what kind of woman I’ve chose to be my queen. I’ve done my research, Arya. I know a thing or two about Braavos and your efforts during the war are impressive. Are you aware that a bard composed a song about you? The She-Wolf Under The Moon. It’s about your nocturne assault to recover Moat Caillin, the way you fearlessly smuggled into the castle and conquered it for your brother. Was the moon as bright as the song says?”

“There was no moon that day.” She answered out of impulse. Truth be told, Arya was a bit shocked with all that conversation. “By all gods, there’s really no aspect of this plan that bothers you?”

It was when Jon took a deep breath and considered what she asked for a second. His face showed no sign of reluctance or second thoughts, just the careful analysis of what words he should use next.

“Nothing about this is pleasant. Nothing about this choice was easy, but you are by far the best option for all the reasons I’ve numbered. I don’t know if it will work as expected and the gods know that I look at you and I still can see something of the girl I used to call sister.” He sighed. “Sometimes we have to make difficult choices. I’ve made mine and now I’m waiting for you to do the same.”

Jon came closer to her and kissed her forehead tenderly. Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, while feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

“Take your time to think about it.” He whispered. “Meanwhile, you stay here at court.”

“So you can make your case?” She asked with a high brow.

“Something like that.” Jon muffled a laugh.

“You should at least try to look more presentable.”

“What do you mean?”

“You look like an old crazy bear with all this hair.” Arya laughed lightly.

“If I knew you were coming I would have give my looks a second thought. You want me to shave?”

“Not really. Just cut it a bit so you’ll look less messy.” She suggested.

Jon took some distance and offered her his arm with a polite smile playing on his lips.

“Perhaps we should leave this conversation to another time. I’m desperately hungry.” He confessed with a hint of humor. “Would you have dinner with me, my lady?”


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn’t expected for Arya to grab her things and travel all the way to the capitol just to have a conversation, but given the circumstances it had been the most practical solution. Jon couldn’t even understand why that felt like a surprise. She had acted exactly as she always had. Once confronted with a problem or a difficult decision, Arya would simply act. 

Not that she would give an answer right away without giving it a proper though, but it wasn’t in her to think quietly about the matter until the end of days. If she needed information, she would ask and be absolutely blunt about it. The real problem was that he wasn’t prepared to deal with the awkwardness between them. 

He had never felt so dumb. She stormed her way into the Throne Room and he just panicked. Jon didn’t know what to think. Arya was there and she was nothing like he remembered. Breathless and dressed in male travelling clothes, she almost looked like a wildling. Sam came after her out of exasperation, while she acted like a force of nature. 

His first reaction was to feel like a green boy of six-and-ten again for the chance to finally have her near. His second reaction was the youthful joy of been accepted by her, even when he knew that this marriage would never be a romantic and delightful affair. Jon was probably just enchanted by the possibility that she still trusted him enough to accept what he had offered her. 

That room had never been emptied in such a slow pace. Jon wanted everyone gone, out of his sight so he would be able to dedicate to her all the attention Arya needed from him. He was probably being ridiculous and selfish for ignoring his subjects in order to listen to whatever she had to say, but that was a thought for another time. For now she was Arya Stark, his future queen and probably the most extraordinary political decision he would ever make. She was there and she had accepted him. That was all that mattered. 

But Arya wasn’t there to happily tell him that she would be his wife. No, that had never crossed her mind at all. What she wanted was answers, and to be honest it was a fair request. Jon did his best to answer the questions she had. At least she had told him that if she was to consider his proposal seriously, than she would need that piece of information. 

That had helped Jon to believe that his quest wasn’t lost. Not yet, at least. Arya had given him no estimative of how long it would take for her to have an answer, but she would only be allowed to go back home when she had made up her mind. In the meantime, she would remain in the Red Keep, close enough for him to present all the advantages of such union. 

Now, that was a tricky business! Jon had never needed to woo a woman before. The gods knew that Ygritte had been the one to pick him and not the other way around. He would probably still be a virgin if it wasn’t for her endless advances. 

What he had learned from songs about how to conquer a woman’s heart would be of little help, he feared. Arya had never been swoon by the things that most girls her age liked. The only thing he truly remembered that she liked and didn’t involve sword fighting and horse riding was flowers. 

Arya liked flowers. She would usually pick them in the woods, or the glass garden at Winterfell to give them to people she liked or just put them in her tangled hair. He could not tell by the way she looked like now if she still cared for flowers, but he would try as soon as the gardens were able to produce them again. 

She accepted to have dinner with him and Jon considered it to be a good start despite of her opinion on his looks. He truly looked like a crazy old bear with that messy beard and tangled hair. He hadn’t had much time to take care of his appearance in the last months. With all the things that needed his attention, the reforms he had already made and the ones he had yet to put in motion, his beard had been his last concern. 

He could only imagine what kind of thoughts were in Arya’s mind while she ate looking at him every now and then. The last time she saw him, Jon was just a boy. His face was smooth back then and he had no scars to show, but he had never thought about himself as an attractive man back then. And he certainly didn’t think so after the war. Jon had no idea of what she favored in a man, and in matters of looks he was no Tyrell. He was a northerner through and through, just like her. 

That was just unfair. He looked like and crazy bear while she had grown into a true northern beauty. When she was a child, she was considered plain and even ugly in comparison to Sansa, whose southern beauty was indeed remarkable. Jon never thought that, though. Sansa had never been really appealing to him, while he thought Arya to be charming in her own way. Now she was just stunning, even after a long journey and in male clothes. 

“Is it true that a bard composed a song about me?” She finally broke the silence between them. “I’ve never heard it. It happened to Robb too, but I don’t remember the tune.” 

“It’s true.” Jon said it in the most pleasant way he could. “It was how he convinced me to hire him. He is the official bard of the court now.” 

“Oh! That good? I don’t remember you being fond of songs and things like that. You used to favor Old Nan’s stories.” 

“That’s right, and they helped me quite a lot at the Wall, but I do like songs. I found it to be relaxing after a long day. Since I no longer hear the sounds of war, I needed something else.” 

“Do you miss it? The war, I mean.” She asked before sipping her wine. 

“I don’t miss the war, but I miss the action. I haven’t held a sword in a while and there was always something to be done in the camp and at Castle Black, something dynamic I mean.” 

“I know what you mean. It’s strange to adjust now, as if there was no place where I could fit. At least you have kingly things to do and keep you busy, for all that I’ve seen.” 

“What you’ve seen was just a sample of how tiresome and boring my days became.” 

“All the petitions come to you?” 

“Only the ones presented by nobles, or against a noble. I truly hate it the way it is. It’s not efficient and many demands are excluded from appreciation.” 

“I’ve heard Bran talking about your ideas for a reformation on the legal system. I also heard many complaints from lords about it. They fear it will make them equal to the peasants.” 

“That’s exactly what I want, at least in which concerns the law application. It will also solve the demands quickly. What do you think about that?” 

“I like it very much given what Bran had told me about it and your reasons to do it.” 

“I feel there’s a ‘but’ somewhere after this sentence.” She smiled carefully before answering him. 

“But…you sound a lot like Aegon V. You should be careful about it.” Arya looked at him with genuine concern. 

“Aegon V didn’t have a dragon and his sons failed to help him by refusing all of the important marriage alliances he had planned. I’m not willing to commit the same mistakes.” It wasn’t his intention to highlight how vital his marriage to her was in order to fulfill his plans, but Arya seemed to ignore it. 

“You should also consider that your main goal is to feed the people until the first spring harvest and hope that the harvest will be a good one. You haven’t seen much of the realm since you’ve been crowned. What I’ve seen is pessimism everywhere. The food supplies are at its limits and we will have a few months, maybe a year until the land is defrosted and able to produce again. King’s Landing was a surprise. I’ve never imagined that you would be able to employ so many people in such a short notice. I guess the money came from the Faith. Another bold movement.” She made a pause. “You put an end to the Long Night. You and Daenerys put an end to what would have been a dreadful winter, but that does not mean that the consequences of it are over. It will be years until we recover. You can’t afford a rebellion, no matter how small it might be. If you keep angering people as you are doing now, it might come a time that you’ll need to actually use a dragon. If I know you at all, that’s not something you are looking for. Aegon V was a good king, but he hasn’t known a day of peace until his death. We do not need another war.” 

Now that was a surprise indeed. It startled him to notice that Arya knew much more about his politics than he would have expected from anyone who wasn’t directly involved. She sounded very much like Tyrion, and that was something one could be proud of. More than that, it was as if he could hear Maester Aemon’s voice again. The same concern and the same outstanding wisdom. _Kill the boy and let the man be born._ The king was officially interested in what Lady Stark had to say on the matter. 

“I shall take your opinion on account. I guess Lord Tyrion will enjoy having someone that thinks so much like him around, especially one that I tend to hear more than other advisors.” Jon said with a smile. “Would you accept accompany me tomorrow?” 

“On what?” She asked curiously. His grin got wider. 

“Horse riding. I haven’t had a decent companion in ages. I hope you still know how to get on horseback.” 

“Of course I know, stupid.” She replied immediately as if even the sound of his voice had been an insult. At least was relieving to talk with someone who never cared about his status and was also bluntly honest. “But can we leave it for another day? I’ve spent almost a month on horsebacks and I’m sore.” 

“As you wish. I’ll need to think on something else to keep you entertained.” He felt really stupid for not thinking about the time she spent traveling. 

“Jon, you are the king. You don’t have to worry about entertaining me.” She said immediately. “I can perfectly survive court without you serving as my fool. I’ll have all the fun I need, if I your master at arms agree to help me in my practice.” Now that was something tricky. He had no problems with Arya practicing sword fighting, but if anyone of the court found out it would cause him some trouble. 

“My master at arms might find it awkward to assist you in your practice, but I know who will be gladly do it. The King’s Guard can live without Lady Brienne for a few hours.” 

“That will be perfect.” She seemed satisfied with his suggestion. 

When their private dinner was over, Jon noticed that they haven’t talked not even once about his proposal. For the moment, he would consider it a good sign. He wanted her to feel comfortable around him again, and maybe when she gave his proposal a second though the weight of the political reasons would be almost irrelevant. Arya was terribly intelligent and clever, but if he would never win her by her mind. Arya was all will and heart. If his guess was right, she probably relied on her wits during the whole war in order to survive and what he wanted was to allow her to follow her instincts and her heart for once. The gods knew he was doing the same. 

“May I accompany you to you to your quarters?” He asked. 

“I really don’t know why you are acting as if I was anything but family. Really Jon, you don’t have to worry about me. I can find my way around just fine.” She said it in a way that almost made him forget that she was probably his most important political maneuver. He never wanted to think of her in such a way. He only wanted to hold her as he used to and hear her laugh. He wanted to feel part of her family again, and maybe the loneliness of his days would vanish away. 

“I just want to take every opportunity to spent time with you. Besides, I’ve moved you from the room Sam had picked for you to somewhere else. You will stay at Maegor’s Holdfast. Your things have already been moved.” 

“I’m not a member of the royal family.” She insisted. 

“But you are one of the king’s closest relatives and a lady of the highest rank. It’s only proper for you to have decent apartments.” He rose from his sit and offered her his hand. “Come.” 

She accepted his hand. His heart almost failed a beat. 

They walked all the way to the quarters that he had ordered for her. Arya held to his arm while noticing all the changes in the place since the last time she had been in the capitol. It felt just right to have her near, although a part of him would never feel completely at ease with their shared past if she ever ended up being his wife. 

It was his quest to fall in love with that young woman and make her happy if she ever became his queen. 

They stopped at her room’s door and the awkward silence fulfilled the air for a second. 

“So…Good night, Jon.” She said unsure. 

He took all the courage in him to kiss her on the cheek. Jon never expected for such a thing, but he found it lovely to see how her face blushed. 

“I’m really happy to have you near again. I’ll make time for you tomorrow, I promise.” He said with a shy smile. “Sleep well.” 

Jon left her at the door with a strange feeling that maybe he was being too bold. Kissing her on the cheek, what a thing to do! If anyone had seen it would certainly send the wrong message. The virtue of a possible future queen should never have reasons to be doubted. On the other hand, it was Arya and they have been kissing each other on the face since she learned how to do it. 

Maybe he should just sleep and try to calm down. On the morrow he would try to think about a way to impress her. Some kind of celebration, or even a gift. Tyrion should be able to help him with that sort of thing. 

His sleep had never been so resting. Jon woke up feeling alive as he hadn’t in ages. He was already dressed and breaking his fast when Lord Tyrion Lannister was announced in the king’s chambers. 

Tyrion came in as fast as his short legs allowed and judging by his face, he wasn’t exactly happy. 

“Good morning, Tyrion.” Jon greeted him. “Would you break the fast with me?” 

“I’m not hungry, Your Majesty.” He said immediately. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Jon asked before having a gulp of his strong ale. 

“May I ask you what in the seven hells Lady Arya Stark is doing at the courtyard crossing swords with Brienne?!” He almost spat. “Wasn’t she supposed to become your queen, or something of the sort?! What do you think that the Small Council will think of this match when they see her like that?!” 

To the seven hells with the small council and all the old crones he had to endure. Everybody knew that she fought during the war. It shouldn’t be a surprise at all. 

“That I appreciate her skills and I value a woman able to defend herself and the children we might have if the need ever arise. I was the one to give Arya her first sword when she was nine. Let the Small Council know it. At the end of the day she is still connected to several important houses and they can’t overlook that.” He said resolutely. “Now, if you excuse me, I have promised her that we would spend some time together. I’m eager to see how good she is with a blade in hand.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fast XD. It was nice to see a bit of Jon's thoughts on the matter and how he intends to try to convince Arya of accepting his proposal. Their conversations is also a way to show a bit of Arya's thoughts on politics and let them get reacquainted. I hope you liked it.  
> The reviews made me very happy and motivated to write so...Give me more! XD


	3. Chapter 3

She managed to escape what would have been a hard blow from Brienne’s training sword. Although the Maiden of Tarth was as big as the Hound had been, she was still quit as cat whenever in battle. Arya took a deep breath before attempting another offensive against her opponent and this time she was able to hit Brienne on her side. 

Lady Stark ignored the astonished eyes of the nobles that peeped at her practice. Brienne seemed to ignore them and the hideous comments they made about them, as if she had never heard anything else her entire life. 

Perhaps it had been the time she spent with the Mormont girls and their troops during the war that made her believe that in times of crisis the gender does not matter as long as you survive. She had survived and probably done more for the realm than any of those men, but they still believed her to be unworthy of bearing arms somehow. She cursed in braavosi or high valyrian whenever the comments got too bold, and kept focused on the fight. 

“You don’t have to dance around me!” Brienne shouted. “This is a long sword, not a braavosi one. You hit your opponent hard as soon as you can!” 

And so she tried, only to have her sword blocked by Briennes shield. Now that was some serious practice. 

“Very good, my lady.” Brienne approved. 

“It was not good!” Arya replied between a swing and another. “You are still standing and talking!” 

“You’ll need more than that to strike me down!” It was Brienne’s turn to attack and in two blows Arya was on the floor, breathless and more satisfied than she had been in years. 

She let a laugh escape her mouth while laid on the floor. Oh what Jon would say if he saw her like that? He would probably change his mind about that wedding in a matter of seconds. 

“We can try a spear the next time.” Brienne suggested in a joyful tone. “I believe it will suit you better, but for someone so small my lady is terribly strong.” 

“Thanks, Brienne. But I need to master the long sword first. The braavosi sword has little use against westerosi armors and weapons. Maybe an axe before the spear. I favor a close combat.” 

“As you wish, my lady.” Brienne answered before leaving her practice sword to her squire. “I confess that I was surprised when His Majesty sent me the note. I’m happy to be of some use to you, although I doubt that your lady mother would approve of it.” 

“That you can be sure, but she would blame Jon, not you.” Arya answered. “I haven’t had such fun in a while. Thank you.” 

“I hope you are not tired yet, my lady.” Another voice demanded attention. One that Arya knew as much as the back of her hand. 

She sat on the floor just to see Jon coming her way, dressed in practice armor and with a tournament sword in hand. 

“Would you mind to show me a bit of your skills?” He asked with a smile. Arya could tell by the way she was looking at her that Jon was finding that whole exhibition very funny. 

He offered her his hand to help Arya to her feet. Brienne made a reverence to him and got out of sight to grab some refreshment. 

“If Your Majesty insists.” She answered. 

And so they engaged on another practice, only this time her opponent was not as brutally strong and tall as Brienne was. 

She suspected that Jon was avoiding strike her with his full force out of fear. He favored a fast paced style, and was as efficient with the imitation of a bastard sword as the finest sword masters of Braavos. That kept the fight balanced and both of them laughing whenever a strike successfully landed on the opponent. 

It was more of a show of than a real fight. There was more laughing than anything else, until Arya seized an opportunity to strike Jon at the back of his right leg. That was the end of it. Jon was sitting on the floor muffling a curse while she offered him a hand. 

“For the sake of my pride, I should avoid crossing sword with you.” He said with a frown. “I’m rusted. Next time I’ll be able to do better.” 

“Let’s see it then.” She replied with a satisfied smile. “I was not expecting you here.” 

“I wanted to give them something to talk about.” Jon said looking carefully to the nobles peeping at them and whispering at each other. “Let them know that I respect you for your skills. You may practice as much as you want.” 

“Thank you.” She replied without knowing what else she could say. Back at Winterfell, all of the servants and Bran’s banners’ men were used to her fighting and shouting orders to soldier. But at King’s Landing…It seemed that she would become the next talk of the court. 

“Will you have lunch with me?” He asked in a hopeful tone. 

“Since I have nothing else to do…Yes, I will.” Arya replied sarcastically. “Do I have to tell you how awkward it is when you start to act as if we’ve never met before?” 

Jon tried to fix his clothes and brush away the dust without much success. She could tell that he was avoiding that kind of question. Maybe he simply didn’t know how to act near her after so many years without seeing each other. 

“I suppose it is just how it happens during a courtship.” 

“What?!” It was impossible not to feel shocked by such revelation. 

“You haven’t decided if you are going to accept my proposal or not. I’m only trying to prove myself worthy of you and maybe to convince you that this marriage doesn’t have to be a burden. Making my case, as you said.” Jon replied awkwardly. “Of course I have no idea of how to do it, but you can tell me if it’s working.” 

“Please, stop making fool of yourself.” She said almost exasperated. 

“Do you have a positive answer for me?” Jon asked stubbornly. 

“Not yet.” 

“Then I’ll keep making fool of myself. The choice is yours, but it’s my duty to do my best to convince you to accept.” Jon insisted. 

Arya rolled her eyes in answer, ignoring her manners and the fact that Jon was the king and she owed him some respect. 

She excused herself in order to get a bath before having lunch with him. Truth be told, she wanted the privacy and as much distance from Jon as she could get for a while. 

Arya found the water to be a better companion to her doubts than anyone in the Red Keep. For a moment she had almost forgotten why she was in King’s Landing and that there was a question to be answered. 

She had seen with her own eyes the extent of the changes Jon was trying to make and also how much anger those same changes had provoked on the nobility. Anyone with eyes to see could notice how desperate he was for help. 

Bran would gladly support the king, or so she thought. The same could not be said of her uncle and even Sansa’s second husband. In her mind she could see the pieces of the game and although she hated being a part of it, Arya was aware of her own importance. If only she had been born more like Sansa…She would accept Jon, ignoring their past and how much it would be difficult to have him in her bed without thinking of it. 

But she was Arya Stark and Jon had given her more power than any of his servants had. The power to deny him, even if her choice could cost the future of the entire kingdom. Bran was right. Jon had too much of his father in him, only this time the difference between tragedy and a glorious future was in her hands. 

The question was if her similarities with Lyanna were restricted to her looks, or if Arya Stark would destroy a kingdom just like her aunt had. 

Arya took a deep breath when she came out of the tub. A servant named Viola came to help her to get dressed. Arya had to admit that Vi, as she had came to call the girl out of affection, had much more talent for picking clothes than Lady Stark ever had. 

She brought Arya a fine grey dress with an exquisite embroidery work on its collar. Sansa had given it to her as gift the last time they met at Winterfell. 

“This one is perfect.” Vi said to her. “Most ladies of the court favor the excess. Too much color, too much exposure, or even too much jewelry. I don’t like it.” 

“Why not?” Arya asked, although her mind was elsewhere. 

“They are all distractions.” Viola said with a bright smile on her face. “You are going to meet the king in person. You don’t want him to be distracted by your clothes. You will want him to pay attention to you and what you have to say. I used to serve Lady Sansa the last time she was in court. These flowers on your collar remind me of her.” 

Arya smiled lightly. 

“She made them for me. I was never good with needle work, but my sister had a natural talent for all the things I failed.” Arya’s voice sounded too sad for her taste. “She was born to be a queen.” 

“Don’t be so harsh with yourself. The gods have given us all talents. It’s up to us to develop them.” Vi insisted. “In times like this, it would take a new Vysenia to survive the position of queen. Let sweet Lady Sansa at the Vale, with her needle work and her children. She is happier there, where she is queen of her own peaceful court.” 

Viola brought a looking glass for Arya to see how she looked. It took her a second to believe that the woman in the mirror was the same one that as a child had bagged on the streets of Flea Bottom and roamed the streets of Braavos. 

She looked like Arya of House Stark, sister to the Lord of Winterfell and the Lady of the Vale. A princess in her own right. 

“You look beautiful, my lady.” Viola said. 

“Why do I feel that I need armor?” She asked mindlessly. 

“Nonsense.” Vi said. “You are not going to a battle and even if you were, in court silk and velvet make a better armor than any steel ever could. Be brave. The king likes you for all that I’ve heard. He will fall to his knees when he sees you.” 

She summoned all of her courage to walk all the way from her room to Jon’s private study. Chin up and heart beating like the war drums, Arya almost felt sick. 

It was time to face the consequences of her birth and embrace her duty for the sake of all the great dreams Jon had dreamed for the kingdom. She had always wanted to be some sort of hero. She had fought the war and killed to protect those she loved, but maybe her true heroic act had yet to be made. 

Her father once said that her children would be princes, lords, knights and maybe septons. She wondered for a second if her father had foreseen that coming even when Sansa was the one promised to the future king. 

Arya had loved her father for trying to reassure her that day, although she was certain that such kind of fate had never been meant for her. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she had always been meant to have that insipid glory. 

When the guards opened the doors for her, Arya took a deep breath before looking directly at the king. 

She expected to see something like the formidable and ferocious man she had seen at the Throne Room, but what she found had thrown her expectations to the window. 

Jon was there, reclined over his desk, wearing his usually black attires. His beard had been cut to perfection. Although his hair was still much longer than the way he used back at Winterfell, it was much more contained. He looked a bit younger and a bit more rested. She decided that he looked much more like a man whose face was familiar and dear to her, than the unreachable hero king. 

He raised his face to look at her and for a second he seemed astonished. Jon got up to his feet to help her to her seat before Arya could even blink. 

There was only a small table prepared for them and no servants to attend them. She considered it to be a good thing. If she was to have that conversation, she would rather do it without an audience. 

“If I may say so, you look beautiful.” He said in awe. 

“The servant you’ve sent me is quite skilled. She is the responsible for this miracle.” Arya replied shyly. 

“In fact, I believe that there was no miracle, only soap and water. Is the first time I’m seeing you after a bath.” She laughed a bit at that. It was a rude thing to say to lady, but it was the truth anyway. “And I find you beautiful even in practice clothes.” 

“You don’t have to say these things.” She said, finally remembering of her decision. 

“It’s true.” Jon insisted. “I like your hair this way, falling over your shoulders in curls. I remember how much I liked to muss your hair and I would always make a face.” 

“I liked your beard.” She said. “You look like a decent man instead of a crazy bear now.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

Silence once more fulfilled the place. 

“You don’t have to do it anymore, Jon.” She finally said what had been stuck on her throat all along. Jon looked at her confused. 

“Do what?” He asked. 

“Be nice to me like that. To court me and all.” She replied while trying to conceal her distress. “I got it! You need me to accept and I’m not a willful child to be pampered in order to do what she is told.” She paused for a moment to summon her courage once more. “I will marry you.” 

She expected some kind of reaction from him, maybe a rampant of joy or even satisfaction, but Jon said nothing for a while. He just looked at her and his face became sober and even concerned. He was not happy, but worried about her just like he used to do when they were children. 

Jon covered her hand with his and for the first time Arya noticed that he had burnt his hand somehow. 

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’ve never expected you to accept so quickly.” Jon said with his voice full of concern. “May I ask you your reasons?” 

“I saw what you are trying to do, and although I’m lost without a war to fight I’m not craving for another.” She said carefully. “You have the chance to be the best thing that ever happened to the Seven Kingdoms, but you won’t be able to realize all of your plans without support. I know who I am and what I can do for your cause. If it was Sansa in my place she would do what she had to, but it’s me making a decision and I was never really good at doing what I was told. For some reason you believe that you needed to convince me at all cost when you just had to give me a cause to believe and fight for. You did it, Jon. That is enough for me.” 

Again she expected him to be happy, but there was something about his lips that told her that although he was relieved, he was also hurt. 

“I can’t say how much your decision means to me. You are probably saving me in a way that no one else could, but Arya…I don’t want you to do anything that don’t want or don’t feel prepared for.” He finally said. “I’m not being nice to you only to convince you. I want you to trust me as you used to. More than that, if we are going to do this our relationship will have to change drastically soon or later.” 

“I do understand it. I don’t exactly like the idea of the duties I’m supposed to perform once we are man and wife, but I understand them. Stop acting out of love for the girl you used to call little sister and start to act more like the king you are. I never wanted to marry anyone, but giving me total power to refuse you is madness. What if I had said no?” 

“I would respect it and try to find someone else.” He answered soberly. “I would rather be a bad king than to be called Bolton behind my back. I gave you this power because I’ve spent all those years in fear for your safety, worried that you might become a prey of some kind of monster. I would still worry about you if Bran found you any other suitor. I failed you and I wouldn’t do it again.” 

“You’ve never failed me. I’m not some helpless girl and I don’t need you to save me, Jon. I lived alone, scared, constantly brutalized by the war. There’s nothing you or anyone can do at me to hurt me now. Why can’t you simply be happy for my answer? Call the Small Council, make the arrangements, or whatever you have to do. I know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. I won’t ruin the kingdom out of selfishness.” 

“Fine.” He answered in a dark tone. 

Jon rose from his seat and got out of the room for a moment. Arya couldn’t understand why he was acting in such a sour way since she gave him the answer he wanted. When he came back to the room there was a small black leather box in his hands. 

He approached her before opening the box to show her the most splendid necklace made of gold, diamonds and rubies in flower motives. 

“I had it made for a while now.” Jon said in a serene and almost melancholic tone. “I was told that it was a tradition to welcome a new bride to the Targaryen family by giving her a piece of jewelry with rubies. That is…Only when the bride wasn’t a part of the family already. Although I couldn’t be sure if you would accept my proposal or not, I had it made with you in mind. I hope it is of your liking.” 

“It’s beautiful.” She answered while touching the stoned with reverence. 

“But not the kind of gift that would put a smile on your face.” Jon concluded. 

Arya barely noticed when he got a curl of her hair to play with almost absently, breaking what would have been a rule of courtship. He took all of her hair in his hands and put it over her left shoulder, before taking the necklace out of the box. 

She felt the cold gold against her skin, weighting like the chains of the slaves broken all over the Slaver’s Bay. She closed her eyes, feeling Jon’s fingers on her neck. 

“I wish I had another sword to give you.” His voice was almost a whisper. “At least you would love me for it. You would smile at me as you used to, and shower me with kisses. It is almost ironical to think of it and realize that you looked more like a happy bride back then, than you look now.” 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to what Jon had thought, Arya's decision was based on the politics of the realm and not her personal feelings. I guess this is her adaptability taking over her again, along with the lack of purpose to her life once the war was over. Although Arya is still very impulsive and bluntly honest sometimes, she also understands who she is and the weight of the responsibility of such an old and important name. What she didn't expected was Jon to react as he did. If anything the king is disappointed, but why?  
> I hope you liked it and give me some love in review form, will you?


	4. Chapter 4

When Tyrion came to see him on the next morning, after a brief note calling for an audience with the Hand, Jon’s mood was not exactly what would be expected of a man about to be married. 

Tyrion looked at him suspiciously while Jon grumpily checked on the account books. How much more he would have to wait until the fields where able to produce again? The Citadel had said that the winter had finished, but where in the seven hells were the damn spring and the harvests? If only he had slept well. If only he could feel happy for Arya’s answer. 

Jon barely noticed it when Tyrion sat in front of him. 

“I hate to interrupt you when you are concentrated, but did Your Majesty called for me?” Tyrion finally called for Jon’s attention, dragging the king back to reality. 

Jon rubbed his eyes and pulled the books aside before paying Tyrion any attention. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit sleepy.” Jon excused himself. “Would you like some wine?” He asked, forgetting that Tyrion was trying to avoid drinking while in service. 

“No, I would like to hear what Your Majesty has to say. It sounded important on your note.” Tyrion said. Jon nod in answer. 

“I’m trying to figure out a proper date and checking how much money we can dispose of for this. It will be a tragedy, but the public display is necessary anyway. I already sent a raven to Lord Stark and Lady Arryn. I’ll need a meeting with the Small Council, I guess. I’m trying to think about other arrangements that must be done, but I can’t remember anything now. Would you please assist me?” 

“I would if I knew what you are talking about.” Tyrion said in his usual caustic tone. 

“She accepted my proposal.” Jon said it with a sigh. “Arya Stark will be my queen as you and Sansa have been insisting for months now. Call for a feast, ring the city bells, the king will be married as soon as preparations are done.” 

Tyrion looked at him with genuine concern for a moment, before anything could be said about the news. 

“You seemed enthusiastic with the possibility since the day that Lady Stark stormed her way into the Throne Room. You seemed even happy with the arrangement, which is highly Targaryen of you, I must say. Her presence had made you far more light spirited in this last couple of days than any musician ever could. What happened for you to change your tone like that?” 

“She doesn’t want it! That is what happened!” Jon finally said out of rage unknown so far. His hand was shaking while his stomach twisted, turned and curled, making him sick. He was not a king. He was just another filthy creature driven by power lust to even consider that acceptance as something real. “Arya said yes and was even gracious about it when explaining her reasons. She would be a king far better than me, I say. She is doing it because she believes my cause to be just and because she wants to help me, but I know her my lord Tyrion. I gave her the power to refuse, but she won’t because it would be some sort of weakness. Arya is doing it because she thinks she must in order to prove herself and she will hate me forever after everything is said and done!” 

“Then I must go to her immediately and thank Lady Arya for being the person this kingdom needs, for the man I pledge my loyalty is proving to be an utter fool.” Tyrion answered in a way that made him sound much like a father lecturing his son. “You are not Rhaegar, you are not Aegon V either. You are a boy still dreaming of a sister long lost and the games you two used to play. You still want this little girl to love you and worship you like the hero of her fairy tales. Well, you better get used to the fact that this girl is now a woman and probably the most powerful unwedded woman in the Seven Kingdoms, and she loves you enough to share your dream of greatness. She might not love you when you consummate the wedding, she might not love you for a while after that, but she will respect you for being what Aegon V, Rhaegar and Daenerys could not be. Be thankful for this young woman does not loathe you as her sister loathed me, and my sister loathed Robert. Be even more thankful for her being devoted to you, for that hasn’t changed during the war as long as I see.” 

The silence was heavy with anger and deception for a long minute. Tyrion raised his hand to his head, as if a headache was taking place. Jon took a deep breath before saying anything else. The Hand of the King had good reason to give him a lecture, but that didn’t make his circumstances any more pleasant or any less painful. 

“You know what? I blame the lack of women in your bed for this ridiculous rampant.” Tyrion broke the silence. “It had been ages since you last took a woman to bed and now you are drunk over the idea of romance.” 

“Is that a crime to wish for your future wife to love you? I thought that was exactly what you wanted when you wedded your Tysha.” Jon answered, knowing that he was walking on thin ice. 

“I was young and terribly naïve. I wasn’t even my father’s heir when it happened. In this dangerous game we play there’s no place for such a thing as love.” Tyrion snapped back in a sour tone. “You might dream of it and it might even become a reality, but that would be just a lucky strike. I guess I understand it. The Night’s Watch and all those vows you’ve broke for the sake of a young girl who dared to call herself Arya Stark. Tell me my friend, how does it feel to be in love with a woman you once called sister?” 

Jon looked at him with a scandalized expression on his face. His first impulse was to punch something, or scream at Tyrion denying such an accusation, but he found no courage in him to do so. That was a silly idea. That was a ridiculous notion. How could he be in love with someone he called “little sister” and haven’t seen for years? 

“I’m not in love with her.” He said in a contained tone somehow. “I can’t be.” 

“Yet here we are talking about our tragedies. The shocking part is the lack of wine in the scenario.” Tyrion teased him. “I guess you never noticed and it’s comprehensible. She was forbidden to you and all the love you shared was something easy to mistake for brotherly affection. The gods know that this isn’t hard to happen if my own siblings can be an example of anything.” 

“Assuming that you are right. Assuming that what you’ve just said is possible. What am I supposed to do now?” Jon questioned in an exasperated tone. 

“Nothing, really.” Tyrion answered with a hint of good humor. “You are already betrothed to her. Most would consider it a victory, but you are not the kind of man to settle down for such small prize. You can only pray that one day she will feel the same. Meanwhile, let us focus on planning this circus. I hate royal weddings for some reason.” 

After long hours discussing the finances and what kind of preparations had to be made before the wedding, Jon left his private study feeling even more tired than usual. 

It was decided that a feast would take place by the end of the week in order to make a public announcement. That would be only the first step of the whole ritual that would last about a month and a half, more than enough time for the other Starks to come to the capitol. 

The whole court would be invited, along with the heads of the most important noble houses of Westeros. That was a terrible way to spend money, but it was important for a sovereign to have a very public wedding. The ceremony would be performed in the Faith of the Seven, although both Jon and Arya worshiped the old gods. Jon had insisted on saying their vows before a heart tree after the ceremony was over, in order to honor both old gods and new. 

He went to the gods’ wood to think and pray for answers. If only he were able to understand those feelings, maybe he would know how to act. 

He was not surprised by the fact that Arya was there, sitting under the heart tree canopy and talking to lady Brienne. Once more she was wearing a dress and this time it made him remind of how lady Catlyn used to dress in a very northern fashion. 

There was something in the way her hair curled over her shoulder and the dark colors of her clothes that made him feel happy. As if her image, sitting under a heart tree was the very personification of what home felt like. 

She looked at him when she noticed his presence. Jon could not hear what she was saying to Brienne but the knight bowed to him a second later and disappeared, leaving the king and his new bride alone. 

“I didn’t expect to find you here.” Jon said. “If you wish I can come later. You may finish your prays in peace.” 

“I wasn’t praying.” She answered calmly. “I was just thinking and the gods’ wood is probably the quietest place in the Red Keep. Please, have a sit. There’s something I need to tell you, if we are going to proceed with the plan.” 

“Will I like what you have to say?” Jon asked skeptically. 

“I don’t think so.” She said while he sat by her side. “I should have told you before, but I only thought about it now. Try to not be angry at me.” 

“I won’t.” He promised. 

“I won’t come to your bed untouched, as a queen should.” She said it straight away. Arya waited for him to react and for a second Jon felt a cold sensation in the pit of his stomach. He did not know what to say or do for a while so they stayed in silence for an awkward moment. “Please, say something.” She said with a hint of exasperation. 

“How long has it been since it happened for the last time?” He asked the most rational question he could think about. 

“It was during the war. He was a knight fighting under my command. I took him as a lover for a while, until he died. He was the only one and he has been dead for more than a year now.” She answered in the most honest way possible. “You wanted me to be honest with you and I thought you needed to know. I’m not sure if this will affect your opinion about me, or change your mind about the wedding, but I thought it I should tell you.” 

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” He said trying to sound calm. What else he could do? Rage over an opponent that was already dead? Give in to paranoia and get jealous that in another time, under drastic situation she might have loved another man more than she ever loved him? It was a futile effort. In the end she would belong to him and not to this dead lover. As Tyrion had said, it was a victory. “I’ve never thought we would have such a conversation, but it was very thoughtful of you to tell me. I believe there’s no bastard child of which I should know.” 

“No child. I was fighting a war. I couldn’t afford committing such mistake.” Arya answered cautiously. “I took the moon tea at the time to avoid any complications.” 

“Then there’s no risk for the claim of any children we might have.” Jon concluded. 

“Are you not angry?” She asked suspiciously. 

Jon thought about it for a while. What she have done wasn’t exactly usual among noble ladies and even if it was, no one would ever admit it before the wedding had been consummated. It was a war and both of them had been fighting for survival to the point of almost forget how it was to feel human. He has had his own share of lovers, and Daenerys was no different in this. 

“I’m not angry at you.” He finally said. “I’ve had lovers too during the war. I know how it is. The fear of death, the sensations of losing your humanity little by little… Sometimes we can only remember what we are when with another human being. How it is to feel alive. I’m not a hypocrite to the point of looking down on you for doing the same things I have done. Somehow I’m relieved that we have had the same experiences. It might make things easier for us. At least I can talk about it with you without much mortification.” He let a nervous laugh escaped his mouth. “Did you love him?” 

“I liked him, I suppose. He was loyal to a fault and terribly stubborn. He was a simple man, with simple tastes and I liked him for being so. It was easy and uncomplicated. He died in battle, with a hammer in hand. I burned him under a heart tree.” 

“I’ve done just the same for someone I once loved.” He said sadly. “She was a wildling. She reminded me of you sometimes.” 

“What a couple we make.” She rolled her eyes, making Jon muffle a laugh. 

“Better than most, I fear.” He answered. “I’ve sent note to Bran and Sansa. There’s someone taking care of the invitations to the wedding while we speak.” 

“How long?” 

“About a month and a half.” Jon answered. “There will be a feast in five days time to make the public announcement. I would like you to wear the necklace when we make it public.” 

“I expected something like that.” She said with a sympathetic smile that made his heart warm a bit. “May I ask you something?” 

“Anything you want.” 

“May I have Brienne as my sworn shield after the wedding?” That was a question he was not expecting for. “Brienne swore some kind of oath to my mother when she was alive. Something about finding me and Sansa and keep us safe. Sansa has her own household and knights to protect her now, and since Brienne is part of the King’s Guard I thought it would be for the best to take her under my service.” 

“It’s a very sensible decision.” Jon answered with a hint of satisfaction. “I believe she will be honored with such a request. Of course you can have her.” 

“Thank you.” She said and Jon couldn’t help notice that she sounded happier. 

“May I ask you something?” 

“It’s only fair.” Arya smiled at him in a teasing way. 

“Would you have dinner with me again?” She rolled her eyes as an answer and it was his turn to smile. 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x 

The following days haven’t given them much time to spend with each other, but Jon insisted on having quiet dinner with her every night. It became their own tradition and it had given them the chance to get a bit more comfortable around each other. 

Their conversations became more relaxed since Arya gave him her answer. There was still that discomfort hanging in the air, something like the weight of their responsibilities and the lack of familiarity, but at least she was smiling at him more frequently and Jon felt that he could talk about everything with her. 

Although she never told him, Jon had noticed that Arya attended every audition he had during the week. He had no idea of the purpose of her presence in the Throne Room, but Tyrion complimented her initiative more than once. 

“If she is going to be the mother of the future king, she must know as much as possible about the realm’s politics in order to teach your sons and even in case of regency.” Tyrion insisted. 

It made sense, but all the talk about politics was a bit too much for him to think at the moment. He was more concerned with giving a step at time without tumble. After days planning the public betrothal, he could only hope that everything would follow its course as smoothly as possible. 

The day came for the betrothal to become public. The Queen’s Ballroom was more crowded than usual when Jon arrived. Arya was already there, dressed in a way that would put any southern beauty to shame. 

Her hair all loose, falling over her shoulders in curls. Her dress was dark grey and detailed with fur on the sleeves. The necklace was the only piece of jewelry she was wearing. She was talking to some of the elder members of the court when he approached her. 

“It’s true that the northerners don’t have much tradition at tournaments, but that does not mean that we don’t know how to fight. I believe the war was proof enough of it.” Arya was saying to the courtiers. “I’m not sure if I would do well at a tournament, but I can survive a battle with a sword or knife in hand. If you doubt me, you should ask your son and heir, my lord Cressey. I had the honor to fight side by side with your Willam.” 

“So he has told me, my lady. He said that you would put even the Warrior to shame, although I find it hard to imagine someone as fair and delicate as you dealing with the roughness of war.” 

“One should never doubt Lady Stark’s abilities.” Jon finally spoke. “Once she has put her heart to something, no one is able to stop her. When it comes to battle skills, she is a natural.” 

“Your Majesty flatters me.” She smiled at him modestly. 

He could barely recognize her, all dressed up and talking to courtiers as a living image of the perfect lady, as the queen she would be. He would probably never know when and how she learned such things, but somewhere in heaven Lady Catlyn was observing that scene with teary eyes. 

“Would you give me the honor of escort you to your seat, my lady.” Jon asked her gently. 

The way Arya looked at him with those mischievous eyes told him how desperate for an excuse to avoid those men she was. When the distance between the couple and the courtiers became a safe one she sighed in relief. 

“Thank you. I was about to tear my eyes out in despair! I’ve never saw a swordsman as incompetent as Willam Cressey, but the old Lord Cressey believes the son to be the Arthur Dayne reborn. I wanted to gut the little brat about a hundred times.” 

“I bet you stroke him down at the first chance.” 

“You can be sure of it.” Jon could not contain the laugh. 

“I’ve almost thought that someone might have abducted my bride and replaced you for a doppelganger. You sounded very much like your mother, only bolder.” Jon said it in an amused tone. 

“Believe me. There are things you won’t want to know about me.” She said with a mischievous smile. 

“What sort of things?” He insisted. 

“Mummers.” 

“Are you role playing?” Jon asked in a false shocked way, making her laugh. 

“If you have any suggestion about how to survive court, I’m willing to learn.” She answered. 

“Maybe you should teach me. Sometimes I have no idea of what I’m doing.” 

“You are doing just fine. Don’t excuse yourself for acting like a king, though. You should remember that. You’ll never be able to please everyone. You’ll be the perfect king as soon as you understand it and learn to feel comfortable in your own skin.” 

“Are you comfortable?” He asked curiously. 

“No, but I’ll lie so well that nobody will ever suspect it. The only thing that I want is to run away just like I used to do whenever I had a needlework classes. You are a natural leader, though. This is where you belong.” 

“And you are a natural queen. There was a time when I doubted your capacity to adapt to court. Now I believe that no one could ever be as perfect as you are.” 

It was amazing to see her smiling at him again and acting with total confidence in her abilities to charm the courtiers. He remembered that Arya had always been charismatic and made friends as easily as Sansa sang. Maybe the time with mummers had only allowed her to improve such qualities. 

Food and wine was served and all of the guests seemed to be satisfied with the entertainment provided. His bard played The She-Wolf Under The Moon at Jon’s request. Arya listened to song with disbelief and pointed that the music had made her sound very much like Queen Nymeria. 

The time for the announcement finally came. Jon rose from his sit while Tyrion called for the attentions of the guests. He took a deep breath before starting. 

“We have seen this world coming to an end in ice and fire. It is a miracle that this very world survived to see another day; yet here we are, celebrating victory and life. All of us have faced lost at some extension. Although the dead ones are not to be forgotten, it’s time to look at the future with hope and determination.” He made a dramatic pause. “Once I knew a girl whose dream was to be a knight and to never attend a needlework class ever again. She was my best friend and probably my favorite person in the world. When the war was over and the time to look at the future came, I decided that a future without her was not worthy living. I wrote to her, not as a king, not as a commander, but as a man fulfilled with hope that she might be willing to share a future with me. I still can’t believe that she accepted. My lady, please rise.” He asked and so she did with regal grace. “This union is the final conclusion of the Pact of Ice and Fire, originally created during the Dance of Dragons and now reformulate aiming the prosperity of the realm. It’s also about reunion, family, happiness and hope. I could not wish for a queen more beautiful, honest, clever or fierce. My Nymeria.” He kissed the back of her right hand. “My Vysenia.” Then he kissed her left hand. “My Arya.” 

As Tyrion had said, he was drunk over the idea of love. He was dazzled by the sight of her and the sound of her laugh. He was mesmerized at the woman she became and the undeniable fact that he was falling for her. 

Propriety and decorum thrown out of the window. The silence in the ballroom was filled with shock, reproach and fear while Jon decided to act like the king he was by claiming her lips in a fervorous kiss. In a matter of seconds Arya went from the status of scandalous lady in male clothe, to the status of most powerful and dangerous woman in the country. 

When the kiss parted, Arya’s face was bright red while he felt intoxicated by the taste of her. He took her hand in his before turning to face the guests once more with the confidence of a king. 

“I give you Lady Arya Stark. My future queen.” 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you suppose to react when you get the answer you wanted, but not the way you wanted?  
> How awkward it is to realize that you are in love with someone you were not supposed to fall in love with?  
> What I love more than writing? Writing Jon Snow in denial XD  
> I hope you like it and keep reviewing!   
> Jon Snow is not dead! I refuse to believe it! That's not Dorne! Sansa was never raped for Theon to have his story! Jaime Lannister is a fucking general, not a pitiful spy! Brienne is a woman with a purpose! That is not ASOIAF! That is just some poorly written show!


	5. Chapter 5

She wanted to punch him, to gut him if possible. How could he be so stupid like that?! Jon had completely forgotten his place and hers. King he might be, but it was still her life, her body, her image. She had never felt so embarrassed before. Not even when septa Mordane would constantly point that her hands were as rough as the ones of a blacksmith. 

Back then Arya had been able to put up a brave face and run form the room saying that she was going to shoe a horse. Jon was the one she always ran to; the one who would always reassure her and make her believe to be special when she wasn’t. She was nothing of the refined lady she was raised to be. She lacked the talent, the beauty, the delicacy. She was half wildling and half wolf. Her only value rested on her blood, but Jon insisted in lying to her by saying all those things as he used to when they were children. 

That wasn’t her place. She wanted to scream it so everybody would hear. She was not Sansa, she was nothing like her mother and she would never fit in anywhere. All that Arya wanted was to go home, to lock herself in a room and cry her heart out. She was not a queen. She was not a queen. She was not a queen. 

All her certainty, everything that she had learned from the mummers and the House of Black and White had suddenly vanished from her mind and the second Jon kissed her. She could hear her defenses cracking and all the image of a powerful and confident young woman became nothing. What remained was the girl with a dirty face dressed in rags watching her father’s beheading; the girl that spent years trying to go to the Wall just to find her brother so he would mess her hair and complete her sentences as he always did. 

That girl was dead just like her brother. Those children no longer exist. There was no Jon Snow. He was stabbed to death by his sworn brothers and there was no use to believe that he would ever come back. There was only the king; her king. Jon Targaryen. He was handsome, intelligent, honorable, stubborn, gentle, caring and he looked at her as if he had never seen anything more beautiful. He had kissed her and Arya felt her heart bit as fast as the wings of a bee and she felt a kind of flurry in the pit of her stomach. There was nothing about Jon she didn’t like except for the fact that he was Jon and whenever Arya was near him she felt overwhelmed by all the feeling he brought up in her. 

When the feast was done, she tried to get out of the Queen’s Ballroom as soon as possible. She wanted to hide inside her room and listen to one of Viola’s anecdotes until she dosed off. Before Arya could get out of the ballroom, Jon was already by her side, offering her an arm to hold. She could not refuse his gesture now, not after being announced as his future queen. 

He conducted her back to her chambers in silence during the path. It was hard to breathe and the pain in her head was almost too much for her to take. Why couldn’t Jon leave her alone for a moment? 

When they finally arrived Jon looked at her with concern and prevented Arya to hide behind the door by holding her hand. 

“Are you feeling well?” He asked immediately. “You look pale.” 

“I’m fine.” She lied. How could she be fine when everything was so wrong in her life? 

“Please, don’t lie to me. If you are feeling sick I’ll send for the maester at once.” He said with genuine concern about her health when he should be asking about her messed up heart. 

“Just let me sleep.” She insisted. “It was all too much for me. I’m tired and I need silence for a change.” 

“You don’t look like yourself, Arya.” He said firmly. “It was the kiss, wasn’t it? You didn’t say a word after that.” 

“Seven hells! Why can’t you let me alone?!” Arya finally growled. “Why can’t you stop this whole courtship thing?!” 

“We are past the courtship stage, Arya.” He answered in a sober tone. “If you haven’t noticed yet we are betrothed now and it can’t be undone. I’m sorry for being so bold, but it’s hardly a crime to kiss my bride.” 

“Why did you do it?” She snapped back. “You didn’t have to. No one really expects us to be in love, so why pretend?!” 

“I did it because I wanted to.” His voice came out in a dark tone. “Not because I wanted the court to believe us to be in love with each other, but because I wanted. You said to me to stop making excuses for being the king so here I am. I won’t make excuses about this kiss because there is none. You told me that you understood your duties, now I doubt it.” 

“Why could you possibly want to kiss me?” Her voice came out a bit hysteric. She couldn’t breathe properly, she couldn’t think. Jon was there, holding her hand, looking at her as if waiting for some kind of vital information, while she felt he knees tremble. 

“I don’t know.” He said while letting go of her hand. “Why does any man kiss a woman? You gave me your answer even knowing that you could have refused me. Just because you said yes out of duty, honor, conviction or any other reason, it does not mean that mine will remain the same forever.” 

“What are you saying?” She asked in disbelief while Jon looked at her with exasperation. 

“I…I think I’m falling in love with you.” It came out of his mouth, but the worlds made little sense. It didn’t help a single bit, only made Arya more confused than she was already. 

“Don’t be stupid.” She whispered. “You can’t be.” 

“Maybe I’m not falling in love with you.” He corrected. “Maybe I’ve always been in love with you somehow, but we were both too young for me to realize the meaning of such feelings.” 

“This is just sick. We are siblings…We were…I don’t know anymore, but this is just wrong!” 

“That’s the problem isn’t it? To think about those years, to remember how close we were and how I used to call you little sister. If the reasons behind this marriage were only political ones than we could simply say that it was duty what brought us together. It would be for the greater good, but now…” He took a deep breath. “I ruined the perfect lie, haven’t I? Maybe it’s just my inheritance, my Targaryen blood speaking. You don’t have to feel the same. Not even a king can expect to have power over someone’s heart. I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you in such a position. Good night, my lady.” 

Jon disappeared in the dark corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast leaving Arya to her own confusion and thoughts. 

When she entered the room Viola was already there, waiting to help her mistress to undress and prepare for the night. The young servant looked at her with eyes full of concern. She never said a thing about what she might have heard, but Arya suspected that Vi had come to know much more than she should. 

Arya never realized that she was crying until Vi kneeled by her side to wipe her tears. Viola whispered comfort words to her while caressing her hair until both of them felt asleep. 

During the following days Arya only met Jon in public events where their presence was required for protocol’s sake. In those occasions they would barely speak to each other, although they kept their smiles and Jon insisted in hold her hand when no one was looking. 

The worst part was that she missed the quiet dinners and their long talks. Arya missed the sound of his voice talking about his plans for the country or just humming a random tune while writing something. Without Jon the only ones to talk to her were Tyrion and Vi. 

Tyrion had taken some interest in her as a pupil. He often came to her to show the account books and ask her opinion in some administrative matters. Arya soon noticed that she had become some sort of extra official member of the Small Council and one that the Hand particularly appreciated. That kept her busy so she wouldn’t think about Jon, the wedding or her own feelings. 

Her time was running out and Arya was painfully aware of it. Her feelings about Jon’s confession couldn’t be ignored forever. For a while she missed her dead lover and the simplicity of what they had. It was need, sex, relief and distraction. Nothing to think about and weigh her decisions when she went to battle. 

With Jon was precisely the opposite of it. It wasn’t political support what he wanted. Arya had known it for a while that he had always dreamed about a home of his own, with a loving wife and children playing like they had done years ago. What she couldn’t believe was that he wanted it with her. That was frightening, oppressive even because he wasn’t just a man she could fool in order to get what she wanted, nor one she could hurt without hurting herself. 

It was Jon and she cared too much about him to ever hurt him. She had fought for too long to see him again, only to realize that the price for her wish was too big for her to pay. 

There was only a week before the wedding when Vi came to announce that Sansa had just arrived with her children. Arya sent her sister a note and ordered for tea in her quarters to greet Lady Arryn properly. 

Sansa came to see her as soon as she received the note. When she was announced, Arya haven’t felt that happy since she arrived at King’s Landing. It was a relief to see a familiar face again and despite their differences, Sansa and Arya have learned to appreciate each other’s companion after the war. 

Lady Arryn smiled at her gently and it almost hurt Arya’s heart to see how much Sansa looked like their mother. They embraced each other briefly, which made Sansa uncomfortable. 

“I’m not supposed to hug you anymore. You should start to pay attention to protocol.” Sansa said politely. “Look at you. I see that Viola has been taking care of you. I like it. You look like a proper northerner lady.” 

“I’m trying.” Arya answered. “I’m trying to be more like you and do what is right. See, I even ordered tea for us.” 

Sansa caressed her face tenderly before sitting at the tea table. 

“I confess that I was surprised when His Majesty wrote to tell us about the wedding.” Sansa said graciously. “I’m really proud of you for your decision. When I suggested it I was sure that it would be necessary a royal decree for you to accept, but I guess we were all mistaken.” 

“I’m not stupid to ignore how important such union is to keep the King’s Peace.” Arya answered soberly. “Although, I would have appreciated if any of you had told me about it before I received the letter.” 

“I agreed with Bran in the matter. We believed that it had to be Jon the one to tell you, otherwise you would never think of it rationally.” 

“Why is that?” Arya asked before sipping her cup. Sansa gave her a suspicious look. 

“Truly? You have never been able to refuse Jon anything since we were children. If it was me telling you, you would have cursed me in all the languages that you could remember. Jon, on the other hand, had better chances of hearing a reasonable answer.” 

“Don’t you feel sick for even thinking about this wedding? He was our brother! You can think of it as a natural thing.” Arya insisted. 

“Truth be told, I don’t feel sick about it. It doesn’t even shock me, if I am to be honest.” She replied bluntly. “You have never noticed, have you? It was always very obvious to anyone else, really. Since you learned how to walk you would follow him everywhere. Mother often desperate about it. When we got older and you heard me talking with Jeyne about the kind of men we wanted to marry, you said in a very resolute way that you would marry Jon and no one else. I told you he was our brother, but you had already learned that Targaryens used to marry their sister and concluded that you could do just the same. Of course no one could have imagined that he was actually a Targaryen back then, but I guess you can see my point.” Sansa held her hand tenderly. “You see, I suggested the union not only for the sake of our family, but also because I wanted you to be happy. You might not love him as a man, but I believe he can make you very happy indeed.” 

“What father would have said?” Arya asked mindlessly, making Sansa muffle a laugh. 

“He would have suggested the match himself. Look at Jon! He is very much like father and he was raised as a Stark. Father would never have reason to doubt that he would worship the very breath in your lungs. Besides, he will make you a queen.” 

“I really don’t know what to think anymore. I’m so confused. I don’t know how to do this.” Arya insisted. “I’m not you. I don’t know how to go on with this wedding as if I had not issues with it, nor was I meant to be a queen.” 

“No, you are not me. I’m glad that you are exactly as you are. Lord Tyrion had complimented you when I met him downstairs saying that you were the most clear minded and intelligent woman he has ever met. You also have a gift for reading people. You are resourceful and in times like this it’s even handy that you are a military commander. You are the right choice for the right time. Unless we are talking about something else.” 

“What else we could be talking about?” Arya answered sarcastically. 

“Oh don’t even try to pretend to be that naïve. You know what!” Sansa said in a hushed tone. “It can be rather entertaining, you know?” 

“Now that is something I would never imagine coming out of your mouth!” 

“I have three kids already. I’m not exactly playing card at night with my husband.” Sansa said immediately. “It was terrible to think about it with Tyrion. Thank all the gods that we never came to that. Are you afraid of your wedding night?” 

“Not afraid really. I just don’t know what to think about. It’s Jon, for fuck’s sake!” 

“He is not difficult to look at. He’s quite handsome, and he knows how to kiss for everything I’ve heard from my maid. You can always teach him since he is always so…Eager to please you.” 

“Seven hells! Stop right now! I’ll have nightmares with you trying to teach Harry whatever it is that you teach him!” Arya waved her hands as if trying to erase the mental images away. “I’m not exactly inexperienced. I could fuck a handsome stranger if I damn wanted to, but it’s Jon!” 

“I believe that the only reason you have to feel nervous is that you actually care about him. Maybe you want it to be special, to be meaningful.” 

“Don’t be delusional.” Arya said rolling her eyes. “This is not a fucking song where every gesture means something special.” 

“It can be.” Sansa smiled at her. “It’s actually better when you are with someone utterly devoted to you. Every kiss, every touch brings you closer to him. Not physically, but in spirit. There’s nothing like to feel loved by the man in your arms and I doubt that there’s anyone that loves you more than Jon.” 

“Can you please shut up or talk about your children while we have tea? I had enough of the mental images that you are planting in my heads.” 

She had hoped that Sansa’s presence would somehow help her to go on with the plan. What happened was exactly the opposite. Arya had never felt so insecure about a decision before, not even when she was about to send hundreds of men to certain death during the war. 

When the day finally came, Viola took her out of bed and prepared her a bath. Arya’s hair was washed carefully and combed in a way that would certainly please the king, with curls falling over her back while part of it had been braided in a complicated pattern. 

She was dressed in an ivory and silver dress with winter roses embroidered on the top and along the skirt. Sansa had given her a set of sapphire jewelry to match her dress while Jon had sent her another gift. 

The crown he had given her was very much like his own only more feminine. A simple circle made of gold and silver, carved with arabesques and with small rubies and diamonds encrusted on it. When Viola put the crown on her head, Arya had to take a deep breath in order to contain the tears. 

Brienne and Sansa came to escort her to the liter along with Rickon, who would represent the Starks. During the path to the Great Sept of Baelor the people crowded the streets to see the royal procession. She noticed that King’s Landing wasn’t as sober and severe as she remembered. There was music on the streets and children waved at the liter in hope that the new queen would see them. 

They finally arrived at the Great Spet and both Rickon and Brienned helped her to get down. 

“Who are you?” Sansa asked gently at her before Arya could enter the Sept. 

“I’m no one…” She whispered mindlessly, making Sansa to smack her hand lightly. 

“Who are you?” Sansa asked again and this time Arya was alert. 

“I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell.” She said. “I will be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“Always remember who you are.” Sansa said before kissing her cheek. “You look like an angel. Be brave as you have always been.” 

Rickon was too short for her to hold his arm as it should be, so they held hands in a very childish way. She couldn’t help smiling at him, who was trying hard to look like a proper lord as Bran would have instructed him to be. 

The doors were opened and for the first time she saw all the guests invited to the celebration. They were like a blur of colors and arms that she could not distingue. Her eyes were fixed elsewhere. He was there, waiting for her by the altar, all dressed up in Targaryen colors and looking more like a real king. His beard was cut to perfection and his long hair brushing over his shoulders. On his head the crown rested, matching her own in style only that Jon seemed far more comfortable than her. 

The music started and she walked toward him. Her heart beating fast while she was constantly afraid of tumbling on her feet. 

Arya never heard what Rickon had said to the king and the High Septon, she only noticed when Jon took both her hands and the ceremony began. At some point words just came out of her mouth like a pray. 

“With this kiss I pledge you my love, and take you for my king and husband.” She said and kissed Jon in an almost chaste way, with her eyes tightly close. 

“With this kiss I pledge you my love, and take you for my queen and wife.” He answered and kissed her back, touching her face tenderly before her cloak was unclasped. 

Jon than took his own cloak to wrap it around her shoulders with a satisfied look on his face. She took a deep breath and finally realized that it was done. There was no going back. Queen she became at that very moment and queen she would be as long as she lived. Jon held her hands and took it to his mouth and kissed them with respect while all the guests shouted in approval. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several things I loved about this chapter. The first one was messing up with the idea that Arya knows exactly what she is doing and most importantly why she is doing it. Second, she is finally allowing herself to connect with the child that was overshadowed by her sister and lost everything she loved. She is showing insecurity about her capacity for the first time and she doesn't believe to be worthy of love. Third, she has no idea of what she is feeling for Jon. I admit, my favorite part was her dialogue with Sansa and how they managed to overcome their differences and become family to each other.  
> I hope you like it.  
> Next chapter....  
> The wedding night!


	6. Chapter 6

He had hoped that Arya would eventually calm down and think more carefully about what he had said. It wasn’t his intention to throw all the weight of his own doubts on her shoulders, but there was no going back now. 

Jon wasn’t even sure if what he felt for her was indeed the kind of love that poets talk about. It was Arya and loving her had always been something natural for him to do, like breathing. Since she had arrived at the capitol she casted some sort of spell on him, making him feel like a fool whenever she was near. She became a beautiful young woman, with all the qualities he could possibly want in his consort and even if he wasn’t the king and she wasn’t a noble woman, he would still find her fascinating. 

He tried to give her space and time to think about the whole marriage thing and the consequences of it. Not that anything could be done at this point without the risk of another rebellion, but at least Arya would be able to rationalize about what he said and hopefully come to terms with the notion. He was in love with her and that was supposed to work on her advantages while he remained a fool in her eyes. He wondered for a while if there was any king as stupid as he. 

The day finally came and he was so distressed with the preparations that he barely had the time to talk to Arya properly. He wanted to see her face when he gave her the crown she was supposed to wear. Sansa thought it to be very elegant and fit for a young woman with Arya’s constitution, but he still wanted to see if it was of her liking. 

He should still think about another sword for her. That would be the kind of gift that Arya would simply adore; maybe one with the hilt with a carved wolf to match Longclaw. Gods! When did he become so tacky? 

Jon had tried to not think about the kiss and pretend that it never happened, without much success. He simply couldn’t forget it. Not when it felt so…God. It felt like breathing for the first time. Arya had been motionless out of shock, but she answered the kiss and the way her tongue danced around his just made him eager for more. 

One kiss and his blood were on fire. What would be of him when she was naked on his bed? He had tried to avoid those kinds of thoughts and had some success since Arya was still some kind of deity to him, but that was only until he saw her at the Great Sept. 

There were no songs or poems to describe her beauty. He remembered the day he gave Alys Kastark in marriage and how beautiful she had been back then, with a crown of snowflakes and lace on her hair. He had imagined how Arya would look like on her wedding day, but never expected to be the one to take her as wife. 

She walked toward him and no matter how scared she might be, Arya would never let it show. She walked all the way with grace and elegance, almost as if she had rehearsed it. When he took her hand she was shaking, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. 

They spoke their vows according to the Faith of the Seven and Jon gave her his arm to help Arya to her feet. Silently they left the Sept and got into the royal chariot that would take them back to the Red Keep. He noticed how pale she looked and for a second he worried that maybe she was indeed sick. 

“I won’t bite you, Arya.” He finally broke the silence. “You really don’t have to look so scared.” She shook her head lightly. 

“I feel a bit dizzy. I guess it is the corset and the crowd.” She sounded tired. “How long until this circus is over?” 

“I’m afraid there will be few hours for you to tolerate, but at least you will have something eat and drink. Maybe you have spent too much time without food.” 

“You are probably right. My stomach is a mess.” She nodded. 

“If I may be so bold, you look dazzling.” He finally said. 

“I don’t feel dazzling at all, only asphyxiated.” She took a deep breath. “This is my life now. I’m your queen and there’s nothing to be done about it. The soon I get used to this the better.” 

“Why you make it sound as if I was going to torture you?” He asked calmly. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Arya. Protocol is a bit tiresome but I have never been accused of throwing a ball per week. It’s mostly me and the audiences with the nobles and the Small Council. You are free to take part in them if so you want, but otherwise you can spend your free time as you see fit.” 

“Why do you have to be so good, for gods’ sake?” She asked while rolling her eyes. “You are not helping. Whenever I try to calm down and focus on what I have to do you come around and look at me as if I meant the world to you. It’s just overwhelming and it makes me sad, euphoric, scared, happy and confused all at once. Just stop. If we are in this together then let me breathe. Let me come to terms with myself and with what it means to be loved by you, because I don’t know how to deal with it.” 

“It’s good to know that there’s someone more confused than I am.” He tried not to laugh at her overburst. 

He held her hand and kissed it lightly in an effort of peace. 

“I’ve always thought that there were no doubts about my love for you. I never thought that it would make things different between us at such point.” 

“I’m not talking about the love we have for each other since we are children. I’m talking about what you said. You can’t simply fall in love with me, Jon.” 

“I can do whatever I want, or so I’ve been told. Truly, it’s not much different from when we were children.” 

“How can you fall in love with someone like me? I’ve killed, lied and robbed. I’ve done things that would disgust you. You are the king. You could have anyone you wanted. Choosing me doesn’t make sense.” 

“I can fall in love for someone like you because we have been through the same hell. There’s nothing you can confess to me that would make me think less of you.” Jon sighed. “You don’t have to think about it if you don’t feel the same for me. Keep your own reasons and I’ll keep mine. Let’s just survive this day and see what happens next.” 

At the gods wood in the Red Keep they said their vows once more, only this time in the northern fashion. Only Sansa, Rickon, Tyrion and Sam had witnessed the scene and the other kiss they shared. 

The feast began and Jon could see that Arya was doing her best to look happy, although there was probably nothing in the world that would make her so. 

Tyrion proposed a toast to the new couple and was followed by all of the guests before the dancing began. Jon asked Arya to dance with him and she accepted without much enthusiasm. They danced for a while and even laughed at their disastrous attempt at a complicated step. After that she danced with Rickon and her nephew as much as their stature allowed, making the court laugh. 

The sun set on the horizon and it was time for them to retire to their chambers. Jon forbid the ritual of the bedding, only asking to Sam, Tyrion and Sansa to follow them along the path their room so there would be no doubt that the couple had been sent to their matrimonial bed.   
It was the first time that Arya entered his bedroom and she took her time to look around carefully once the door was closed behind them. The silence was heavy with doubts and expectations. 

“We can wait a few days if you wish.” He finally said. Arya just looked at him with annoyance. 

“Why?” She snapped back. “I knew what I was doing the moment I accept you and I knew that eventually we would found ourselves here.” She carefully took of her crown and put it aside, letting her hair fall over her shoulders and back freely. “One day or another, what difference would it makes? If it must happen, now is as good a time as any other.” 

“Since you seemed so distress in our previous conversation, I thought you might not wish for me in your bed.” Jon answered as a matter of fact. 

“It’s sex, Jon. I’m not giving you my soul or anything.” She said sarcastically. “Would you help me with the corset, please?” 

He could have wasted a lot of time trying to undo the knots of her corset, but Jon decided to cut the cords with the help of a knife instead. In seconds her dress fell to her feet and for the first time Jon had a glimpse of her body. The sheer material of her undergarments left little to imagination. 

His mouth went dry in a matter of seconds. Arya was still small and somehow skinny, like Ygritte had been. He could see some scars spread over her back and sides, probably her own share of war souvenirs. 

She was beautiful in every single detail, like some sort of masterpiece from a skilled artisan. He couldn’t contain the urge of kissing her bare skin. Jon put her hair over one shoulder and kissed the other while touching her arms. Arya shivered at his touch. 

“What if I don’t want just sex?” He said before kissing her neck and touching her covered breasts until her nipples were hard against his palms. “What if I want to make love to you?” 

“I don’t know how to make love, only war.” She answered in low tone. 

She turned to face him properly. He could see the insecurity in her eyes, but that never stopped her from kissing him. Arya threw her arms around his neck while Jon embraced her by the waist and brought her up. 

He could feel her hand massaging his scalp and scratching his neck in a sensuous way. He never felt as eager and inexperienced before. If Jon was to follow his instincts, he would tear her clothes apart and take her there and then, but he wanted that night to last and Arya to melt under his body before he claimed her as his wife. 

When she parted the kiss, Jon seized the moment to take her up in his arms and carry her to bed as a bride should be. Once she was laid in bed, Jon removed his clothes before coming back to her. 

He kissed her mouth tenderly while his fingers rose up her nightshirt so he could touch the bare skin of her legs and tights. Arya’s hands were more anxious, roaming all of his body, as if she had never actually taken the time to savor all the sensations that kind of intimacy could provide. 

Jon untied the knots of her undergarments, leaving the path to her breasts free. His kisses went down her neck all the way to her exposed breasts until he could reach her right nipple and lick it. Arya’s answer was almost immediate. Her body arched and her nails scratched his back. Jon finally took her nipple in his mouth and sucked it gently, while his hand tried to find its way between Arya’s legs. 

She wasn’t ready for him yet and Jon wanted to hear the sound of her pleasure before taking Arya as his wife definitely. With a single pull, he torned her undergarments apart. Jon gave her belly several open mouthed kisses, while her hands played with his hair, pulling it gently. 

He was surprised at first to notice that she had no hair covering her sex, but concluded that he might not want to know where such practice had came from. It was only when he kissed her mount that Arya seemed startled. She gave his hair a hard pull making him growl in answer. 

“Lost something down there?” She asked in an annoyed tone, making him laugh. 

“Just relax.” He said before putting her legs to rest over his shoulders. 

He kissed her at first, making Arya gasp. His tongue tasted her folds and then concentrated at that little spot just above her entrance. He could hear the sounds of her pleasure building up while he tasted her so intimately. What once had been resistance soon became surrender. Jon could not help the striking sensation of satisfaction every time Arya let a moan escape her lips.   
Soon she was breathless and begging for him to continue, until she reached her pleasure. Arya became boneless and her facial expression was full of contentment. What an exquisite view that was. Her glorious body naked, with her hair spread all over his bed while she could not even contain the satisfied smile on her face. 

“Come here.” She called him and Jon got once more on top of her so she was able to kiss him properly. 

There was something terribly erotic about the idea of Arya tasting her own pleasure on his lips, but she never seemed to care about it. While they kissed, Jon separated her leg in order to accommodate properly. 

At this point he couldn’t wait anymore. Once he was properly positioned between her legs, Jon entered her slowly…Probably too slow, just to admire her face at the very moment they finally became man and wife. Her mouth formed a perfect O, while her eyes remained closed and her legs instigated him to go deeper. 

He started to move at slow pace, without forgetting about her mouth or her sensitive neck. Arya moaned lightly and cried out in pleasure close to his ear. Eventually she nearly begged him to go faster and harder. So he did. 

Jon could feel her getting tighter around him and her breath becoming more and more labored. Her toes curled and Arya threw her head back, almost inviting him to kiss her exposed neck. He held one of her hands, entwining their fingers and feeling that she was very close to her second wave of pleasure. 

The sound she made was almost feral and it helped him to get closer to his own relief as Arya’s muscles contracted all around him. He came violently while totally buried in her. 

Jon rolled to his side of the bed and enlaced Arya by the waist so she wouldn’t leave him. Not now, nor ever. She was still languid and numbed by pleasure, while Jon insisted on kiss her neck and licked the lobe of her ear, making her giggle. What a lovely sound that was. 

“I like the sounds you make. It’s easier to know when I’m doing it right.” He purred close to her ear. 

“I liked what you did with your tongue.” She answered in a teasing way. “Where did you learn that? Is it usual among the wildlings?” 

He laughed openly at that, remembering how Ygritte have named the practice. 

“I believe it was just me.” He said. “I’m starting to think that I am a freak somehow for doing it.” 

“You can be a freak whenever you want with me.” She answered sarcastically. 

“You know that this allegation can and will be used against you, don’t you?” 

“You won’t hear me complaining.” She answered sweetly. “I really never expected you to be good in bed.” 

“Why not?” He sounded a bit scandalized. How could she possibly think of it? 

“You had always been so sober, so proper and so uptight.” She said. “I was under the impression that whatever happened here would be guide by duty and nothing more; that you would fuck me with the same enthusiasm that you show whenever you have an audience to preside. I was even more concerned since you confessed your feelings.” 

“Why is that?” He said while playing with a string of her hair. 

“Because you think that sex and love are one and the same thing. You were so afraid of hurting me, and force me to do something I did not understand that I wondered if you knew the difference at all. I don’t know if I’ll ever love you the way you want me to, but I can still enjoy intimacy. Although it’s the aftermath and the memories what really weight on me.” 

“Do you regret it?” Jon insisted. “The wedding, this night, or whatever it is that you feel remorse for?” 

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not one easily taken by remorse. I’m just…” She took a deep breath. “I’m just afraid that it might come a day that I’ll break your heart and ruin everything. I don’t want to lose the memories of our happy past. There was no duty between us. There was nothing to excuse and nothing to be said. There were only you completing sentences with me and messing my hair. There was only me making you laugh.” 

“It was simple and uncomplicated.” Jon completed. “I’m simple and uncomplicated. I hate being king, I hate audiences, but I love having you in my arms just like this and sex is definitely my favorite indoors and outdoors activity. You better get used to it.” She muffled a laugh. 

“This is not simple. You have expectations; a lot of them, to be honest. There’s also the realm to be considered and duties to be performed. What if I never give you a son for example?” 

“I’ll change the law and our daughters will take the throne after me.” 

“Now seriously. What if I never give you children at all?” 

“I’ll be the Last Dragon, like my father before me.” 

“It can be much more complicated than that and you know it.” Arya insisted. “One day you will look at me and there will be nothing of this so called love. There will be only hate between us.” 

“Now listen to me very carefully.” Jon answered soberly. “My heart is not yours to command. You cannot tell me what to do or who to love or hate. This is my prerogative and mine alone. You can either accept that I love you and nothing will change that, or live in denial; it is up to you. Just don’t try to predict the future as if you had any power over what my heart feels. I am committed to you even if you never come to share my feelings.” He kissed her cheek. “Now, since you are so concerned about giving me son; I believe it’s my duty to get you with child within the next months. Brace yourself, Your Majesty. You’ve wakened the Dragon.”   
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might sound strange, but I don't really can think about them being awkward with each other for long. I could either make it the worst relationship in the world after the wedding night, or let them face it as something natural. Arya is far more liberal about sex, while Jon is the one who seeks a deep connection. I particularly like it when they talk openly about everything, specially when Arya decides to let him know what she is thinking.  
> I hope you'll like it.  
> Reviews are highly appreciated as usual XD


	7. Chapter 7

  


She could feel the waves of pleasure building up again. It would always make it difficult for her to keep the rhythm. Jon’s hands grabbed her ass and she could feel his nails scratch her legs while she rode him like her favorite horse. He was close too. 

Arya finally came for what would be the fourth time in two hours, dragging Jon with her. She was exhausted and sore, but that was something she could live with. She liked it when they come together; it meant that she will be able to get a bit more of rest. 

She reclined her body so she would be able to kiss him. Jon was already softening inside her while she could feel his seed hot and thick in her tights and cunt. 

Arya rolled to her side of the bed and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. She was so tired and hungry. More tired than hungry really. She would never know how Jon managed to have so much energy to spend like that. 

“Tired already?” He asked in a teasing tone. 

“Already?” She didn’t even bother to open her eyes this time. “It has been three days since we are married and I haven’t seen the daylight yet. I want to get out of this room eventually. You need to get out of this room. There are seven kingdoms for you to rule last time I checked.” 

“Tyrion is perfectly capable of ruling them while I’m busy.” He insisted. “I’m hungry.” 

“Why don’t you go fetch something for us to eat?” 

“As you wish.” Jon got out of bed and wrapped himself in a robe before getting out of the room. That had been all the walk any of them had done in the last days. 

Arya heard him closing the door and that was all that she needed to fall asleep. She never saw when he came back to bed, but eventually he also gave up and dozed off. 

When she woke up Jon was not there by her side. In fact there was only a plate with fried bread, dried fruits, cheese and meat. There was also milk and strong ale for her to drink, and clothes already prepared for her to get dressed. It was finally time to get back to normal life, or so it seemed. 

Arya got out of bed and eat as much as she could. He could only be planning to starve her, or kill her of exhaustion. When she was done eating, Arya called for a servant, in order to get a bath before presenting herself at court. 

Viola came to assist her, but soon Arya realized that maybe she should send her maid away. Whenever Vi looked at her mistress she couldn’t help muffling a giggle or looking at Arya suspiciously. It was Jon’s fault; always Jon’s fault. 

Once dressed, Arya finally got out of the royal apartments and tried to find someone able to give her an update. She hoped that Sansa would still be at the Red Keep and would accept another invitation for a tea. 

Arya spotted Sam from a distance and he seemed to be in a hurry. His face bright red while he tried to run with a piece of parchment in hand. 

“What this hurry is all about?” She asked immediately, making Sam stop to recover his breath and answer to her. 

“Oh the most extraordinary news, Your Grace.” He said in awe, while she tried to get used with her new title. “News from Dorne and the Reach. The fields are ready to receive seeds! The winter is finally over and I was going to inform His Majesty about it. Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure Lord Tyrion would appreciate it.” 

“Thank you, Tarly.” She said politely. “Lead the way.” 

When they got to the king’s office, Jon was discussing with Tyrion matters of security reinforcement to the capitol, especially regarding the Dragon’s Pit. The sounds died at the moment she entered to room and Jon looked up just to face her with a smile. Tyrion muffled a laugh. Couldn’t Jon at least pretend to not be in love with her in front of the Hand? That was getting embarrassing. 

Tyrion got up from his sit to greet her properly, while Jon still looked at her as a green boy would do to his first sword, or war horse. 

“I thought you would stay in bed a little longer.” Jon finally said, making her roll her eyes. What would they think of such an inappropriate question? 

“I needed to get some fresh air. Besides, Sam informed me of some news that might be of Your Majesty’s interest.” Arya said immediately to avoid any other indiscretion. 

“What news?” Tyrion asked. 

“Dorne and The Reach sent news. The fields are defrosted and the arrangements for the seeding have already started.” Sam answered with a jolly face. “It won’t be long until we have a harvest.” 

“One that might cost us an absurd price.” Tyrion added. 

“There’s any kind of agreement settled with the Reach to keep the prices reasonable?” Arya asked immediately, calling for both the King and the Hand’s attention. 

“There’s none.” Jon answered her with a sober tone. “We must start the negotiations with Willas as soon as possible.” 

“And we better start to think of something to give in exchange for his cooperation. The Tyrells are not exactly happy since the end of the war.” Tyrion said in an annoyed tone. “What should we do? Free Margaery?” 

There was a moment of silence and Jon wasn’t exactly happy with the news as Sam had expected. It was when Arya had an idea that might work on their favor at least until the food supplies were restored. 

“Rickon is in need of a foster home. He wants to be a knight. Why not send him to Garlan and let him learn from the best knights in Westeros? Garlan has a daughter as well. We can always settle for a marriage when both of them are older.” Arya suggested. 

“That could work.” Jon agreed. 

“We should think about an envoy to start the negotiations as soon as possible.” Tyrion said emphatically. 

“No.” Jon said. “No envoys. If the Tyrells are to come back to the fold I at least owe them a visit. I’ll go to the Reach and we can arrange for some sort of celebration. Something to motivate the farmers to do their best. A blessing from a septon perhaps. Tyrion remains here and keep things running smoothly.” 

“What about me?” Arya asked. It was very unlike Jon to travel so far, more even to let her behind after claiming to be in love with her. Was he tired already? 

“You are to accompany me, of course. Willas is said to be a reasonable man, with a gentle temper and a clever mind. Rickon is your brother and it would be for the best for Lord Tyrell to see how much you care about the lad.” 

“What about Dorne?” Tyrion added. 

“It’s about time for them to have a position in the Small Council. I’m sure Princess Arianne would spare her brother to take it. In due time we shall find something else to make them more favorable to our reign, but for the moment that is what I’ll be able to offer them.” Jon concluded. “Prepare the documents that will be necessary, send a raven to Willas Tyrell and make the arrangements for our journey. We depart as soon as everything is ready.” 

“I’ll write to Brandon. Anyone can tell me where my sister is? I should tell her too.” Arya insisted. 

“Lady Sansa is at Maidens Vault with her children and her rest of her party.” Sam informed her diligently. 

“Would you please have someone send for her? Tell her that I invited her to have tea with me at the royal private solar.” 

“Sure, Your Majesty.” 

“That would be all for the moment. You are all dismissed.” Jon said. 

Arya turned herself to leave the room. Maybe she should go for a walk at the gardens, or maybe she could look for a place to practice with bow and arrow. Riding was out of question, but maybe Brienne would help her to find something to do. 

“Would you stay a little while, my love?” Jon asked and for a second she was startled by what he had called her. 

She remained in the room and waited for the other to leave and Jon to say whatever he wanted to say to her. Once they were alone in the room, she turned to face him once more. 

Arya barely noticed that he had crossed the room in three steps just to get to her and claim her mouth as if he was desperate for it. She closed her eyes and relaxed a bit to savor the moment and enjoy the kiss. It didn’t take long for them to part the kiss and try to recover their breath. Jon remained holding her by the waist in a kind embrace. 

“That was a really good idea.” Jon finally said with a smile on his lips. “I believe it can work. Maybe a bit of southern education could help Rickon to be more sociable.” 

“I believe so. Bran can’t handle him alone and I don’t think the Vale would be a good idea. Sansa already have too many kids to take care of.” Arya added. 

“Indeed.” Jon nodded. “When I came back to the room, you were already asleep. Were you able to rest properly?” 

“I’m fine.” She answered calmly. “What about you? Aren’t you tired?” 

“I’ve sleep more the last night than I’ve been able to do since I was crowned.” He answered her with a smirk. “What do you think about going to the Reach?” 

“I don’t know, really. You decided it so suddenly, but I think it would be a good opportunity to make peace with the Tyrells. I would like to see how it is at Highgarden. Some say it is a beautiful sight.” 

“So I thought. As king I should know all of the Seven Kingdoms, but so far I was never able to do so. I only know Winterfell, a bit of the Vale and the Storm Lands.” 

“Confess. You are trying to escape King’s Landing and this everlasting foul smell.” She muffled a laugh. 

“Maybe I am. Wouldn’t you like it?” He asked in a cheerful way. 

“Sure I would. I guess it will be two weeks before we are ready to go. Sansa knew Magaery well. She might help me to learn a thing or two about them.” 

“We can think about the Tyrell another time.” He said while kissing her neck in a provocation. “Why don’t we enjoy the privacy we have now?” 

“For fucks’ sake! I just managed to get some clothes on and I will keep them!” 

“I can think about several solutions for that. Why don’t you sit on the table so we can try?” 

“Probably because I’m going to meet Sansa in a few minutes and I don’t want to get late.” 

“You won’t.” He whispered close to her year. 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x 

She tried to run as fast as she could, but nothing in the world would operate the miracle of keeping her from being late. When she arrived at the solar Sansa was already there, looking impatient and annoyed by her sister’s delay. 

Arya entered the room and her sister immediately got to her feet and saluted her with a graceful reverence. 

“I’m sorry for my delay.” The new queen said breathlessly, while Sansa looked at her as if Arya had been up to some kind of mischief. Well, she could blame Jon for that. 

“Although you don’t have to excuse yourself for being late now that you are queen, it is a very thoughtful attitude.” Sansa said and it would be the closest thing to a compliment that Arya would ever get from her sister. “How are you, Your Grace?” Sansa asked her with genuine concern and kindness. 

How was she indeed? Arya sighed at the thought of it. She felt so out of place and so overwhelmed by everything. She hadn’t had the time to think of her current position or how to deal with Jon. 

“I’m fine, I guess.” Arya said while taking her sit. “It’s not as if I had any alternatives at this point so why think about it?” 

“It was not that bad, was it?” Sansa asked carefully. 

“It wasn’t bad at all.” Arya answered. “Not the act I mean. Jon is…Surprisingly good.” Sansa couldn’t contain her laugh. 

“Why do you look like as if you are not entirely satisfied then?” Sansa asked gently. 

“How would you feel after sharing a bed with someone you grew up calling brother? Jon is…” Arya made an awkward noise out of frustration. “Jon is absurdly kind, tender and passionate. He doesn’t want a political marriage. He wants a song, the dream of a family and a happy home.” She sighed. “I never told you but…He claims to be in love with me. Tell me. What am I supposed to do about it?” 

“Oh!” Sansa said. “Here I thought that he was only being overzealous about you. I thought…By the gods! I thought he was just afraid of hurting your feelings or something like that. It never crossed my mind that Jon was actually…He told you that?” 

“At the day of our betrothal. This is why I was so distressed.” Arya closed her eyes for a moment. “I can’t help feeling sick about it. No matter how much I care about him, or how patient and gentle he is. It still feels wrong.” 

“Forgive me for being bold, but…Do you feel the same about him? Do you think you can fall in love with him?” Sansa asked in a concerned tone. 

“I don’t know.” Arya answered. “I love him. I’ve always had, but he was my brother. My favorite brother, my best friend, the one person I missed more than I missed mother and father. I’ve always knew that Jon would never care if I killed or if my clothes were dirty, as I would never care about him being a bastard. It is a kind of love, but not the kind that would make me fantasize about him in my bed or make me desire him. I just wanted him to hold me and tell me that everything would be fine. I wanted him to be there when I felt lost, scared and alone. I wanted him to be there to stop me when I tried to forget who I was because that would mean forget about him. Now…I just don’t know what I want or who I am. He is handsome and I never thought of him differently. He kisses me and I feel helpless. He touches me and I crave for more. What if going on with me?” 

Sansa held her hand gently. 

“Maybe you just haven’t realized that you are in love with him too.” She said. “I don’t envy your position. The gods know that I would never be able to really love a man as my husband in this situation, but perhaps they have made you stronger for a reason. Love him without feeling guilty. Try, for all gods’ sake, to be happy with him. You surely deserve it.” 

“I’ll try. I must try since I have nowhere else to go.” She sighted. “We are going to Highgarden. He needs to settled an agreement with the Tyrells for the next harvest.” 

“Now that is good news.” Sansa said with enthusiasm. “I’ve never been to Highgarden but I was told it is a lovely place.” 

“We will try to convince Garlan Tyrell to take Rickon as his squire.” Arya said sadly. “It was my idea and I think Rickon can learn a great deal from the best knights of Westeros, but I can’t help worry about the kid.” 

“If Garlan is the one you fear, then rest assured that no harm will come to Rickon. He is a kind man, more honest and gentle than anyone I’ve ever seen. Mace and Olenna were the real problem, but none of them is alive to cause any trouble.” 

“Do you know anything about Willas Tyrell?” Arya asked. 

“He is said to be kind and level headed. He is a clever man too for all that I know about his efforts during the Iron Born invasion and the war. They tried to marry me to him before the Lannisters settle a match between me and Tyrion. I used to think that he would be my gallant prince, only with a bad leg.” 

“I wish you could come with us. I have no idea of how to deal with them and I’m supposed to act as queen.” Arya complained. “You would be of great help.” 

“Unfortunately I have to go back to Harry. The kids miss their father too.” Sansa answered her and Arya could tell that her sister was indeed craving for her new home. “Fear not. You don’t have to act as queen. You are the queen and I’m sure the Tyrells will be reasonable about the agreement.” 

They remained talking during the afternoon and it was with satisfaction that Arya realized how much she valued her sister. The things that once had set them apart also had brought them together. The years spent alone served to the purpose of reinforcing their bond. She would miss Sansa. She would miss Sansa very much. 

When the night came, she found Jon waiting for her at the private sitting room inside the royal chamber so they could have dinner together, as he liked. He was excited about the journey to Highgarden and the perspective of settle down a good relationship with the wealthiest family in the Seven Kingdoms. 

He seemed happy. Whenever he smiled she could see lines around his eyes and the scar was almost imperceptive. He talked about the harvest and how it could change the general mood in the country. He had plans to make storage and distribution more efficient during the winter. 

“Things will get better, you’ll see.” He said with a smile at some point and it was so unlike him to be that optimist. She had missed that joviality in him. She missed how they used to laugh together and how they talked about anything. 

Could it be that she was falling for him that easily? She had no answers to give, only that warm feeling inside her. 

When they finished the meal Jon rose from his place and helped her to her feet. He kissed her goodnight and that had made her confuse. 

“Won’t you sleep with me?” She asked curiously. 

“I thought you might be tired.” He said with a gentle smile. “You can keep a separate room if you want. I will respect you if you are not interested in having much intimacy. I hope you know that.” 

For a moment there was silence. She lowered her gaze and bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t intimacy what she wanted. Arya wanted answers for the myriad of feelings she had to deal with since Jon proposed to her. 

Instead of giving him an answer, Arya went to him and caressed his face. Jon was silent and observant. When she pulled him for their lips to touch, there was no resistance from his part, nor did he try to impose his own rhythm. 

She kissed him the way she would kiss a braavosi sailor, or her former lover. She kissed him with the ferocity of a wolf just to feel him answering to her kiss in the same way. Jon’s calloused hand sank in her hair, while his arm brought her up a bit so she could kiss him properly. 

When she broke the kiss and Jon put her down, it was not necessary for her to say that she wanted him in her bed that night. Arya simply opened the doors to the king’s bedroom and Jon followed her obediently. 

He closed the door while she got rid of her dress slowly. Jon was mute and fascinated while she took of piece by piece of clothing. Once she was naked, Arya went to him to take of his doublet and shirt. She also unlaced his trousers just to slide her hand inside them. He was already hard for her when she felt it. 

Arya thought about teasing him a bit, maybe take him into her mouth as she had witnessed the courtesans doing in Braavos, but Jon stopped her. He took of what have remained of his clothes before taking her in his arms and carry her to bed. 

Arya thought he might have something else in mind when he laid by her side of the bed and held her tight with her back pressed against his chest. Jon made her turn her head a little to kiss him again, while his hand sank between her legs to caress her intimately. Arya bit her bottom lip as he penetrated her slowly. 

They moved along while Jon caressed her breasts. Eventually he held her hand and kissed her neck while Arya felt him moving with more vigor. She had never been held like that while fucking a man. She couldn’t see his face but there was no doubt that Jon was savoring every second of it while she moaned unconsciously. 

He whispered little nothings close to her ear. He asked her to call his name while she was too breathless to do so and even confessed his love for her in husky tone. When the spasms in her body started, Jon held her tighter and started to move even faster. 

She came violently in his arms without a drop of restriction or guilt. There was only pleasure and intimacy. It took Jon a little longer to spill his seed inside her, prolonging her feeling of pleasure so she soon found herself in the middle of a second orgasm. 

They remained like two spoons put together for a long time until both of them were soundly asleep. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. They simply can't get their hands out of each other XD.  
> It's interesting to work with both Jon and Arya's perception about sex. She tries to ignore her feelings in the matter and keep an emotional distance, without much success; while Jon embrace his feelings and seek for a deeper connection with her. I really like the idea of Arya initiating the act. That's her recognizing her desire for him and even trying to conciliate her reason and her heart. She still doesn't fully understand her feelings, but that's her tying to find the answers she need and deal with guilt.  
> Yes, you'll get to see Highgarden and the Tyrell brothers. I'm not really sure of how things will develop from now on, so I'm open to suggestions. This travel will be my own version of Good Queen Alysane and King Jahearys when they traveled North and visited the Wall, only this time the King and Queen will get to visit Highgarden.  
> I hope you like the chapter and as usual...Reviews are love!


	8. Chapter 8

Arya had never stopped to amuse him with her riding skills. He had thought that she might wish for a more comfortable journey, so he had a wheelhouse prepared for her. Unfortunately Arya would only make use of it when they were to have lunch or when they needed to camp. 

It was more comfortable than a tent and since Sansa had insisted that Arya shouldn’t ride all the time just in case she was already with child, Jon thought it to be for the best if his queen remained in the wheelhouse. Of course that Arya never cared much about it and insisted on riding by his side as much as she could. 

The only real advantage of such transport, was the privacy it gave them whenever the need for intimacy became too much to bare. In fact, they had been too enthusiastic during one night that the horses got agitated and it was necessary to contain them before they could put the wheelhouse in motion again. That had been terribly embarrassing, but after the initial shock they started to laugh madly. 

Arya was like a centaur, riding gracefully and as fast as any mounted knight. Jon was concerned about her health since there was indeed a possibility that Arya might be with child, but as soon as he mentioned it, she rolled her eyes and insisted that he was being paranoid. 

Since she wouldn’t listen to him, it was decided that they would take a boat at Bitterbridge and go down the Mander. That has made her even more enthusiastic about the journey. When he asked her why she was so happy, Arya only said that she missed sailing and the gentle sway of a boat from her time in Braavos. 

At Bitterbridge they took a galley, generously offered by Willas Tyrell to take them to Highgarden. The ship was named Lady of Roses and was in all aspects a master piece, being absolutely refined and exquisite in its decoration. 

“It makes me think about the pleasure barge in Braavos.” Arya said in a whisper. “Only bigger.” 

“What is a pleasure barge?” Jon asked curiously. 

“It’s a courtesan’s barge. In Braavos they are rather common and the courtesans are famous for their beauty. They sail the canals lazily, and whenever there’s a customer, they take him to the barge instead of a brothel.” She said softly and low. Jon feared what else she knew about those barges and if she had ever worked in one during her time in Braavos. Arya must have noticed his concern. She looked at him with an annoyed expression. “I used to sell oysters and clams for them. I never knew a courtesan that hasn’t been nice to me.” 

“You do have a talent for making friends with the most unusual kind of people.” Jon pointed. 

“Your former steward was a manwhore and I’m not judging you for this. It is a very simple thing. If someone is nice to you, or treats you with respect, you owe to do the same for them regardless to rank. Friendship is usually a consequence of it.” Arya said it firmly. “It’s a pity that we won’t be able to sail the sea. I like the salty smell of it.” 

“We could escape to Dragonstone one day. Would you like it?” He asked her while playing with a lock of her hair. 

“It would be nice.” She answered. “All this talk about Braavos and the sea have made me crave for oysters with vinegar.” 

“What an odd thing to crave for.” Jon laughed lightly. “Is it good?” 

“It’s an acquired taste, I suppose. It was cheap and easy to find them in Braavos.” 

“Maybe Lord Tyrell can find you some from the Sunset Sea.” Jon suggested. 

“That would be very good indeed.” She smiled at him. 

The journey to Highgarden was considerably faster after they took the barge. In nearly two days they reached their destination without much fuss despite the sandbanks along the river. 

Near Highgarden the Mander was crystal clear and slow, adding even more beauty to the land. Jon spotted the castle on top of a hill and not even King’s Landing could match such breathtaking sight. 

While the capitol was meant to be a symbol of power to the Targaryen dynasty, with its red walls and imposing lines, Highgarden seemed to be delicate and ethereal, like something a poet might have dreamed of. He could easily understand why the place was notorious for its beauty and for being source of inspiration to so many songs. It was easy to imagine a princess sitting by one of those windows, while waiting for a brave knight to save her. 

Arya was just as impressed as he was. 

“I’ve never seen something so impressive.” She claimed. 

“You’ve never seen a dragon.” He teased her. 

“And whose fault is that?” 

He never got the chance to answer her. The galley stopped by the creek, where Tyrell banners could be seen, along with a handsome mounted knight wearing a golden rose on his breastplate. The man dismounted to salute the king and queen in a courteous way. 

He helped her to get down the ramp in a clumsy way, making Arya muffle a laugh while Brienne followed them closely. The knights waiting for them to conduct the royal party to the castle were obviously amused by the whole scene. 

“Welcome to Highgarden, Your Graces.” The man with a golden rose in his chest saluted. “I’m Sor Garlan Tyrell and I’m here represent my brother and to escort Your Majesties to the castle.” 

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Sor Garlan. We’ve heard much and more about you and your formidable reputation in battlefield.” Jon answered him soberly. “I trust Lord Willas to be in good health.” 

“My brother is strong, but I fear the path down to the river banks might cause him pain. He waits in the castle to welcome you properly.” Garlan answered warmly. 

“I present you my queen, Arya.” Jon made sign for her to step forward and she did it elegantly. 

“I’m very glad to meet you, my lord.” She said in a way that she had probably learned from Sansa. 

“The pleasure is ours.” Garlan bowed to her and kissed the back of her hand in sign of respect. That gesture made Jon feel strange somehow. He wasn’t used to see anyone who wasn’t him touching Arya with such familiarity. “It’s also a pleasure to see you again, Lady Brienne.” 

“Sor.” Brienne nodded in answer, feeling obviously uncomfortable for being back to Highgarden. 

Soon the royal party was conducted to the gates of Highgarde, followed by Sor Garlan and his men. The castle was even more impressive when looked closely. Once they got inside the courtyard Jon could hear lutes and fiddles being played by skilled musicians and, although the spring had barely started, the smell of roses could be sensed everywhere. 

Jon had barely dismounted his horse when he noticed the figure of another man in the courtyard, standing by a column and wearing a cane for support. He was very much like Garlan, only slender and a bit more delicate in his constitution. His clothes made of the finest fabrics in tones of gold and green let no doubt about whom he was. 

He had a contained, yet honest smile. His handsome face was amiable and serene as he thanked his brother. That was the wealthiest man in the Seven Kingdoms and the one Jon had to make peace with. The Tyrells had never threatened his reign so far, but they were vital to the crown as long as they could feed the capitol and the kingdoms whose supplies were no longer enough to keep the people from starvation. 

Willas Tyrell came to him walking with some difficulty. Given his bad leg, he wasn’t able to bow before the king, but he made a gracious reverence with his head before saying anything. 

“Forgive me, Your Graces. The path down the river banks is a painful journey for me to make. I hope my brother have provided you with everything needed and welcomed you all properly.” Willas voice was soft like old leather. 

“There’s nothing to forgive. Sor Garlan lives up to his alias being very gallant while welcoming us.” Jon answered, trying to sound as pacific and secure as his host. “I present you my wife and queen, Arya.” 

Arya approached him and it was the first time Willas set eyes on her. She paid him a discreet courtesy before presenting their host with a smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Lord Tyrell.” Arya said. 

“The pleasure is entirely mine.” Willas said before taking Arya’s hand just like his brother had done before him, and kissed the back of her fingers as pilgrims often did with images of the gods. “I have heard rumors about your beauty, but it never crossed my mind that you would look like an angel. I welcome you to Highgarden, my queen.” 

“Thank you, my lord. I believe you already know Lady Brienne. My sworn shield.” Arya replied. 

“Always a pleasure to have you here, my lady. I believe that you will be glad to know that you lord father is in good health.” Willas answered politely, while Brienne simply nodded. “Please, let us talk inside after some refreshment.” 

Jon offered Arya his arm, noticing probably too late that Willas had done just the same. That was an awkward instant, before Lord Tyrell nod with his head. While they followed the path to the great hall, Jon could not help the odd sensation of being challenged. 

It was ridiculous and he knew it. He tried to convince himself that the Tyrells had been nothing but courtly to Arya, as any subject should be. Nevertheless, he found Willas boldness to step forward and offer her his arm a bit too much, as well as the kiss placed on top of her fingers. 

He said nothing for the moment and what use there would be for such a childish behavior. If Willas could be charmed in order to sign the agreement, then their mission would have been a success. 

Arbor Gold was served as refreshment before they could be leaded to their rooms. Jon commanded that Arya’s belongs should be taken to his chambers instead to the private one prepared for the queen. He noticed that such request had caused some confusion among the servants. 

When they finally got some privacy, Jon took of his dusty doublet and shirt, laying half naked on the bed. Arya tried to find a dress that would be appropriated to have dinner with their host, without much success. 

“Where is Vi? I need her to help me with this.” Arya said to herself mindlessly. 

“I’ll send for her.” Jon said. “Why don’t you wear the blue one? It makes your eyes stand out.” He suggested while observing her undress. “Or wear nothing at all and come to bed with me.” 

“Maybe latter. We have to make an impression tonight.” She answered rolling her eyes. 

“You already made quite an impression on Lord Tyrell.” Jon finally let it escape his lips in a resentful tone. 

“What? I barely spoke to the man.” 

“Oh but he kissed your hand as a devoted man kisses the hands of the Maid at a sept.” Jon completed. “And was even bolder to presume that he was allowed to offer you his arm.” 

“Now you are being stupid.” Arya shut him down immediately. “He was being gentle. As far as I know all the Tyrells are a perfect example of southern manners. Lord Tyrell was just being an overzealous host. Now, since you want me to wear the blue dress, would you please help me to get inside of it?” 

Jon helped her as Arya have asked. He couldn’t help to notice how beautiful she became along the years and such a fact could never pass by masculine eyes unnoticed. She would never have a delicate and elegant southern beauty. Her eyes were too fierce, her lines to angular and sharp and her smile a bit wild. Whenever he looked at her Jon remembered of the beauty and the quietness of a godswood after a snow storm. Cold, harsh, serene and astonishing. 

He kissed her neck when she was finally dressed. Instead of asking for a maid to help her, Arya braided her hair loosely, letting the braid fall over her right shoulder as any peasant girl would. 

“I’m sorry for my annoyance. You are right.” Jon said while holding her waist. “Lord Tyrell did nothing to offend me or disrespect you. Maybe I’ve realized too late that you are a young beautiful woman and I’m hardly the only one to see it. The truth is that I’ve grown used to my privileges. You are my queen by law and oath. I’m not used to you being touched by hands that are not mine.” 

“You should get dressed.” She said. “As for your unbelievable reasons, I can’t even see why would you feel like that about Willas Tyrell. I gave you my world. You are mine and I am yours; that is it. I’m not a siren to enchant men with some dark spell.” 

“And yet, here I am; utterly enchanted by you.” He kissed her cheek before leaving her waist. 

Jon got dressed for dinner and they finally took the path to the great hall, were Willas and Garlan were waiting. 

There was a somehow modest feast, which Jon appreciated greatly. He was used to have a quiet dinner with Arya, every night and after almost a month of marriage he hasn’t found a reason to throw a banquet or any kind of major reception. It was usually only them, eating and chatting about the day. 

There was plenty of wine and tasty food to be savored, while musicians played their instruments with undeniable talent. Most of the songs were different from the ones played at court, but Jon found them no less relaxing. 

Arya was simply dressed to the occasion, in comparison to Lady Leonete, Garlan’s wife. In fact, she wore her plain blue velvet dress, with simple jewelry and only her crown to make her recognizable as queen. Yet, she seemed much more comfortable in her own skin and position, much more regal than comely Lady Leonete. 

There was little talk among them until dinner was finished. Once the meal was over, Willas invited Jon and Arya to a bit of a drink in his private study, so they could talk about what really mattered. 

“I confess that I never expected Your Graces to come all the way down to Highgarden.” Willas said in a soft tone. “This could have been settled between us and an envoy from the capitol, but here you are. We feel honored by such concern.” 

“There are matters that are better handled personally. I also believe that after the war things weren’t properly resolved in which concerns your family, my lords.” Jon spoke, trying to sound as secure as possible. “With the seeding and the proximity of the first harvest, it is paramount for us to make it clear that there is no animosity between us.” 

“I assure you that there is none.” Willas replied. 

“House Tyrell is currently the richest in the realms and the one that holds the greatest amount of fertile lands. The Lannisters couldn’t ignore it and I surely can’t. The effects of war still affect the lives of our less fortunate subjects. With food supplies at its limit, I come here to negotiate terms.” 

“Your Grace is well known for being a proficient in negotiations. Even the braavosi would be impressed.” That sounded much like a mockery, when Garlan spoke. Jon thought about an answer, but before he could give one, Arya held his hand. 

“They surely would, sor.” She said with fiery determination. “This is the kind of ability that has become vital in this country after such so many poor choices during the lions’ age. War affected us all. The kingdom is impoverished, many died and more death may come if the crown’s money isn’t spent with wisdom. Do tell me. Would you rather see taxes you pay being used to promote tournaments or see the country once more secure and prosperous?” 

“My Queen is indeed eloquent.” Willas complimented her for her boldness. “You have much in common with my dear sister. We supported the lions and that was a terrible business. I am interested in negotiation. I do not crave for another conflict or another terrible investment to my resources. Flowers know how to bow when the storm comes.” 

“We need to settle for a reasonable price for part of your harvest and find a suitable way to repay you for the crown’s debts to your family.” Jon said firmly. 

“I will have the numbers for Your Majesty to evaluate by the end of the week, so we can discuss. As for the debts, they would never exist if it wasn’t for my father and grandmother’s folly. Magaery’s weddings have been an utter disaster. I would consider the debt paid if my sister was to be released.” 

“She was judged by the Faith, not by the Iron Throne. I have guaranteed that as long as the law of the realms was respected, there would be no quarrel between me and any kind of religion. She took her spta’s vows. That what you ask, I cannot give you, Lord Tyrell.” 

“Then I’m afraid that this agreement you seek won’t be easily achieved. I’m being a reasonable man, especially because Your Grace has paid a substantial part of the debt already. I’m willing to forgive the rest in good faith and sign of friendship, but friendship must also be rewarded. I just want my little sister back.” Willas insisted. 

“May I suggest an alternative?” Arya asked with decisive tone. 

“Do light our path with your gentle heart and sharp mind, Your Grace.”Willas answered her, making Jon once more uncomfortable with the way Lord Tyrell had addressed to her. 

“We really cannot interfere in which concerns Lady Margaery’s vows, but would it be enough for her to come to a sept closer to her home? Oldtown perhaps?” 

“Wouldn’t it be preferable if she was sent to Highgarden’s sept, instead of Oldtown? I would swear by the old and the new gods, before the High Septon and Your Majesties to keep her under my tutelage and hold personal responsibility for her acts. Margaery doesn’t have to be released from her vows. She is lucky for being able to keep her head after all the theater. I just ask to have her with us again.” 

“She is to remain as penitent septa for the rest of her life.” Jon reinforced. “Do you understand that? Any attempt of rebellion or false claim involving her name and there will be no friendship or conversation. Is it clear?” 

“Crystal clear.” Garlan answered. 

“Then it’s settled. I shall have a message sent to the High Septon by morning. I will do everything in my power to have her transferred to Highgarden’s Sept before the harvest is done.” Jon affirmed. “Now. There’s another matter that we need to address. Would you be so kind to explain, my love?” Jon turned his face just observe how Arya blushed. 

“I also have a dearest sibling, my lord.” Arya said with confidence. “Rickon is a brave boy of nine. It is his dream to become a knight, but given the war his studies were delayed. There’s no doubt about the skills of the knights of the Reach, therefore it would make us very happy to have Rickon placed as Sor Garlan’s squire.” 

“Lord Stark’s sole heir?” Willas asked in surprise. 

“For now, yes. Obviously this might change in the near future since Bran is to be married. I hope that he might still have his own children one day despite his condition.” 

“My queen does have a kind heart. We can only hope for Lord Stark to have happy and fruitful marriage.” 

“We better hope for this gesture of trust to reinforce the bonds of friendship between our houses.” Arya rephrased with surprising conviction. 

“Of course we would be delighted to have the young Rickon among us. He shall make a fine knight under Garlan’s tutelage.” 

“So we desire.” Jon finally spoke. “I believe that to be all. I would like to see the fields tomorrow, if that is possible.” 

“Of course, my king. Garla shall take you and show the work we have done so far, although I had prepared a pleasant day for us with a bit of falconry and hunt.” 

“Oh, I would like that.” Arya let it escape her lips. 

Jon looked at her kindly. There was no reason for Arya to follow him in such a tedious errand, although he didn’t like the idea of letting her spend the day with Lord Tyrell calling her “my queen” all the time. 

“You may stay and enjoy the entertainment prepared by Lord Tyrell if you like.” Jon finally said. “It shall be a long day for me, but you deserve to have some fun.” He could only hope that he wouldn’t end up regretting such decision. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long and tedious chapter to write, but since this fic had grown far more than I expected I suppose it's normal to have more dense chapters. This one is much more focused on the trip to Highgarden and the difficult relationship with the Tyrells after the war.  
> Basically Margaery became a septa after the trial to avoid death penalty. Jon is not particularly loved by the Faith for several reasons being the main one his decision to confiscate money and lands from them. The Tyrells had spent the last years trying to get Margaery free and getting back to the king's good graces and now it's the time for them to live by their fame. They bow in order to survive.  
> I hope you like it and I would love to hear what you guys expect for the next chapter.  
> Reviews with chocolate sauce, please?


	9. Chapter 9

Brinne wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea to leave, despite the fact that Arya had gave her permission to. Tarth wasn’t that far from Highgarden and as queen she couldn’t go anywhere without Jon. Brienne had the right to visit her father since the old Lord Tarth was so close. 

“You worry too much, my friend.” Arya insisted. “You should go see your father while you still have him. The gods know that I would give anything to have such a chance.” 

“I appreciate your gesture, Your Grace. I just can’t accept it. I’m responsible for your security, especially with the king being out to check the fields.” Brienne answered stubbornly. 

“Jon would not oppose. Go! Go hug your father once more and make him proud at the sight of your white cloak. Don’t make me give you an order.” 

“What about your security?” 

“There are other guards with us and they can keep an eye on me while you are not around. Jon should be back soon anyway. Now, off you go. I won’t have a ‘no’ for an answer.” 

“Are you sure, Your Grace?” 

“Absolutely. Lord Willas will take me a hunt today, I’ll be perfectly fine on horseback and getting some fun for a change.” 

Brienne wasn’t completely satisfied until Viola nearly dragged her out of Arya’s chamber, cursing the lady knight’s stubborn attitude. For one so small, Viola was terribly strong and foulmouthed when dealing with people that got in her way, especially when someone as big as Brienne wouldn’t let her fix Arya’s hair for being so close to the queen and occupying such a huge space. Lady Tarth finally accepted to live her post in order to visit her old father, saying that she would only be gone for a few days. 

When Viola brought Arya a looking glass, the queen could barely recognize herself all dressed up in hunting attires. She looked more like a real queen than the tomboyish Arya all covered in mud. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just a strange one. 

She felt a bit more confident, a bit stronger too, as if for the first time she was living out of Sansa’s shadow in a place that her sister always fitted naturally. Arya would never consider herself a good queen or lady, but now at least she didn’t feel the worst either. 

Arya went down to the great hall where Willas was already waiting for her in his fine riding cloths, while listening to a young musician playing the lute. He smiled at the sight of her in the same pleasant and sincere way that never failed to get her mesmerized. 

No one could deny that the Tyrell siblings had always been a beautiful lot, with their light brown curls and pleasant smiles. Loras had been a breathtaking man before the tragic accident; Garlan was almost as handsome as his younger brother; Margaery was the beauty that conquered three kings and Willas…Willas had gentle eyes and an elegant face. He would never get much of attention near his siblings, but at a second glance one could clearly see that he was indeed a handsome man. More than that, he was friendly and Arya had seen nothing about him that could justify the fact that he was still unmarried, not even his bad leg. 

“I’ve heard that Your Grace is very fond of horse riding.” He said in an enthusiastic way, as if he had just discovered the most extraordinary piece of news. “I took the liberty of asking for an animal that I believe will suite my queen perfectly. Please, come with me.” 

He offered her his free arm, while the other hand held the hilt of his cane firmly. Willas conducted her with his uneven pace to the courtyard, where two magnificent horses awaited. 

“Mine is the one with the special saddle.” Willas said gently. “This beauty is my gift to Your Grace. A fine breed this one.” 

“My lord is most generous.” Arya answered in awe before approaching the beast to touch her nose gently. 

It was a mare, with long neck and elegant figure, all white, spotted with several black dots that made her almost grey when seen from a distance. It was probably the most beautiful horse Arya had ever seen. 

“Is it of your liking, my queen.” Willas asked. 

“I could not love her any more than I do now. How do you call her?” 

“Blizzard. You see, she was born during a terrible one. I’ve never seen such a terrible weather before. I thought she wouldn’t survive the cold, but here she is. Blizzard is a resilient and strong one. She is also fast and has a good temper.” Willas pointed proudly. 

“I’ve been told that you breed the finest horses in Westeros. It’s time for me to see it for myself.” 

“Horses, hounds and birds. Have Your Grace ever practiced falconry?” 

“Not really. I’ve only heard about it, but it wasn’t a usual practice at Winterfell. We hunted with hounds and horses only. Jon had always been terrific at it.” 

“I’m sure Your Grace is a superb hunter.” Willas insisted politely. 

“A good rider perhaps, but my mother never saw hunting as something suitable to a lady. I never knew how to hunt properly. My brothers on the other hand were very good at it.” 

“Then I suppose that we could just go for a ride then I’ll show you the birds. They are a mighty sight indeed.” 

Arya got on the horseback as if she had known nothing else in her life. She caressed Blizzard’s neck while Willas mounted his own horse. He seemed to be delighted with her reaction to his gift, but how could she possibly not like something so magnificent. Jon would love her too for sure. Maybe Arya could find him a new horse later, one that he could ride whenever they went to Kingswood. 

Willas guided her through his lands and shown her the blooming orchard. Out of the castle, flowers started to bloom everywhere and not only roses as she first thought. There were lavenders, lilacs, bluebells, and several others. The air around her was clean and sweet, filled with smells of wet grass, earth and little wild berries. 

He shown her his birds too and Arya couldn’t be more fascinated than that. How gorgeous their wings were, with feathers in shades of brown, black and white, and their eyes like amber. For a moment she wondered how it would be if she had wings like that. Could she fly away across the Narrow Sea and explore the world? 

“After my accident, I took satisfaction in breeding birds. I would constantly imagine how marvelous it would be to have wings and fly since I could no longer walk properly.” Willas said gently while the caressed the falcon’s head. 

“My brother used to think the same way. I guess everyone have had such thought at least once in their lives. The desire of being free and boundless.” Arya said while putting falcon back to his cage. 

“Is your brother in good health? Lord Stark I mean.” Willas asked. “I can’t help to sympathize with his condition, you see.” 

“Bran is fine. He is one tough piece of meat. You kind of remind me of him sometimes. He has always been sweet and easy going. Rickon on the other hand is a bit more like me. Wild by nature I guess.” She said with a smile. “It would be good for him to have a structured family for a change. He was so young when all of them died that I feel sorry for him.” 

“He shall have only good memories from the Reach, I assure you, my queen.” 

“I hope so.” She said kindly. “Although I love the North, there’s no denial that you have a beautiful home, my lord. Maybe such good weather and such splendid sights can make my brother happier. Gods! Sansa would have loved this place.” 

“So I was told years ago. My grandmother shocked me when she told me I was supposed to wed your sister.” Willas answered shyly. “She was said to be like the Maiden in person, with auburn hair and beautiful blue eyes. All of this frightened me a bit.” 

“How so? I’ve never heard of a man who wished for anything but a pretty bride.” Arya laughed lightly. 

“It was scary to think about a woman with so many qualities losing her youth with a cripple like me.” His tone was sincere and had no trace of resentment. 

“You never knew my sister. Sansa had always been eager to fall in love and she would have adored you as soon as you smiled at her and took her for a long walk in the gardens.” Arya answered sincerely. “She would be kind to you and let’s face the truth. You were a much better option than Jeoffrey.” 

Willas laughed for the first time. Not a loud and boisterous laugh, but one that showed he had truly having fun. When he caught his breath again, he looked at her with thankfulness. 

“What about you, my queen? Was you always eager to fall in love and be the happy lady to an important man?” He asked curiously and with a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“I wanted to be a knight, or the lord of a holdfast. I wanted learn how to shoot arrows from horseback and climb trees. I wanted to sail to the Free Cities and learn to use a sword. A love like those of songs was never something I thought that I would have. I wasn’t made for love. What I wanted was adventure and an endless sky for me to fly.” Arya said proudly. 

“Now you are the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Some would give both eyes for such a chance, and yet you don’t seem to care at all about it.” Willas pointed accurately. “Would you feel happier here, I wonder.” 

“What do you mean?” That suddenly sounded like an odd question to be made; one that would give Jon good reason to ask for Willa’s head. Although the question had been obviously improper, Lord Tyrell seemed absolutely serene. 

“I’m sorry for my boldness, but that is a question that has been haunting me since I was told that Your Graces would visit Highgarden.” Willas said carefully. “Before your betrothal to our king was announced, I had this idea. There was an unconfirmed rumor that the king was looking for a bride among Westeros noble houses; several names have been mentioned as a certain bet, but your name haven’t been mentioned at all because of your shared past with the king. At this I thought that maybe Lord Stark would be interested in having me as a brother-in-law. I was told so many times that Lady Sansa would have been such a perfect wife that I couldn’t neglect the fact that she had a younger sister still unwed like me. I wrote a letter to your brother asking for your hand in marriage. What I received was a polite decline of the offer under the allegation that you were already promised to another. Days later your betrothal was announced.” 

“As you can see, I’m not my sister. I believe that this talk has become rather improper.” Arya answered harshly. 

“No, you are not the image of a perfect lady. That is a relief. I would be utterly bored with any woman that was the perfect example of courtly manners.” Willas said it with a smile. “I would have crowned you with flowers and delighted at the sound of your laugh whenever you rode your horse through the fields. I would do my best to make you happy. What once has been a dream of a successful union, is now a bitter taste in my mouth. If I’ve never knew you, the refusal would be just another frustrated plan. Now that I know you, I think I should have been faster. I should have written to you instead of your brother just to allow you an option. Tell me, my queen. We could have had a chance?” 

She was about to tell him how all of that was nonsense. She wanted to scream at him that he could get killed for suggesting such a stupid thing. More than that she wanted for him to understand that Jon was the only one capable of changing her mind and accept such a ridiculous thing like marriage. Before she could ever say a thing, another voice cut the air as harsh and powerful as thunder. 

“Not while I’m still alive.” Jon said while approaching them with the ferocity of a wild beast. “I believe it is enough insulting for a day.” 

“I’m sorry, my king! I meant no offence and Her Grace has been nothing but an example of propriety.” Willas immediately said out of fear and honor. 

“Keep your excuses for yourself. I came here offering friendship and goodwill only to be stabbed by you on my back. Forget about Margaery. For all that I care she will spend the rest of her days locked up in White Harbor’s sept! Come with me, Arya.” 

There was very little she could do at the moment but follow Jon back to the castle. She left her horse behind and rode with Jon all the way in silence. She could feel the anger coming out of him in waves and that was a bit terrifying. Not that she believed Jon to be capable of hurting her, but it was the first time she ever saw him losing his temper like that. 

She wondered how he would punish Willas for such a reckless behavior. No matter what kind of thing Jon decided to do, that would put the whole negotiation in jeopardy. They have fought for that agreement, they needed the food supplies, they couldn’t afford another conflict. How could Willas done that? How could her make Jon calm down? 

They went straight to their chambers and Jon locked the door behind him with so much strength that she thought he might break the damn thing. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before saying anything to her. 

“Why wasn’t Brienne with you?” Jon asked with contained rage. 

“I allowed her to visit her father. I actually insisted that she should go see him.” Arya answered plainly. 

“You are not supposed to walk around unprotected! What were you thinking?” He nearly roared at her. 

“I thought I was perfectly safe here. I wanted to be good to a woman that sworn to my own mother to protect me no matter what! I could have never imagined that this day would end up like this.” 

“Maybe you just wanted some privacy with your new lover.” He let it escape his lips out of anger. She knew he wasn’t being himself but his worlds were no less painful. “I truly never expected him to be of your liking, but what do I know about your preferences? I really believed that you preferred whole men instead of pitiful soft spoken cripples.” 

“Mind you tongue!” She roared back. “King you might be but you’ve made me your equal! You owe me respect and you better remember where the success of your reign lies! I’m not to be blamed for a man’s folly. I have done nothing but being kind to our host as it is expected of a queen. If he got any ideas, you better be sure that I’ve never done anything to encourage such thought. You should also remember that Bran is restricted to a wheelchair and I will not tolerate you talking of this sort of condition with such disdain.” 

Jon felt silent for a second. His jaw rigid with fury and his nostrils dilated, while his hand was closed in a fist. He took a deep breath and for a second she almost thought he might be crying. 

“Was there a chance?” He finally asked in a controlled tone. 

“What?” 

“Was there a chance for you to choose him instead of me?” His lip trembled a bit and for a second Arya realized that Jon was afraid of her answer. 

“You seemed to have forgotten to whom you are married to.” She answered in annoyance. “Do you recall a single moment where I claimed that getting married was my greatest wish? Have you ever seen me daydreaming about a charming prince and a castle surrounded by flowers? If the choice was mine, I would never consider leaving Winterfell for Highgarden to become Lady Tyrell. Look at me!” She commanded and Jon obeyed out of surprise. “I am by your side. I said yes to your proposal and no one else. I share your fucking bed so often that I don’t even know how I am able to perform my public duties. You were my brother! I grew up believing that and yet I chose to ignore everything for your dream’s sake! I did it for you! Not for Willas Tyrell, not for any other man that might have crossed my path, but for you!” 

“You seemed much taken by his gentle manners.” Jon answered grumpily. 

“I tend to be nice to those who are nice to me. Another world from you about that and you might as well forget about ever getting back in my bed.” 

Jon looked at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression. He had probably never expected her to answer him like that, or so she thought. It seemed that he had no further arguments or accusations to throw at her face. 

She felt dizzy for a moment as if her corset was too tight. Arya held on the table’s edge and took a deep breath, but all to no avail. Her knees felt week and soon all of her body felt just the same until her sight blacked out. 

The least thing she noticed was Jon running to her and calling her name in despair. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slightly drunk right now XD. So...I hope I won't make many mistakes.  
> For those who wondered if Jon would be jealous, or if Willas could have an honest interest in Arya, I say...YES!  
> I hope you like this chapter. I won't got for a long note because with the amount of alcohol and my brain functioning in two very different languages it will be a tragedy.  
> Reviews and wine are made of love!  
> P.S.: If there is any USA LGBT or sympathizing reading this fic, I'm celebrating the Supreme Court's Decision with you! This author is 100% favorable to your cause. #LoveWins #CelebratingWithFriends #BrazilianSupport


	10. Chapter 10

He truly wasn’t thinking rationally. Seeing her with Willas, while Lord Tyrell had the courage to ask Arya if there would have been a chance for him to win her heart, had been too much for Jon to take without thinking of a beheading. 

Arya was his queen! His beloved wife! Not the desperate dream of a smooth southern lord. Willas should have known that since he was said to be such a level headed man. How foolish of him to ever get near Arya while delusional thinking that Jon would do nothing about it. 

He had forbid the Faith to go on with Margaery’s execution once he claimed the throne and crushed the Militant Faith. He was even willing to send her home even when she had been a fundamental tool in so many plots to seize the throne. He had done everything in his power to get to an agreement with the Tyrells and make his reign a little less problematic, but Willas had crossed all limits of decency. 

He wanted to strangle Willas with his bare hands, but it wasn’t Lord Tyrell the real problem. His anger lied elsewhere; in the simple thought of Arya choosing someone else. 

It was his fault and Jon knew it all along. He had given her the chance to refuse him. The choice had always been in her hands, but so far he had never been confronted with another man that she might have chosen. He hasn’t had the chance to fear losing her to someone else. 

All the things he had said to her were nothing but cruelty and rage directed to the wrong person. He wanted her to tell him that she would never think of another man, but Arya was not one given to such delicacies. She would never reassure him with sweet words as she would never tolerate him acting as a frivolous child. 

He deserved all of her answers that hit him like a slap on the face. He needed to remember that she was still the same Arya and even though he would never be sure of her feelings for him, she had never given him reasons for distrust. 

Jon took a deep breath. He had stepped too far and Arya deserved apologies for all the nonsense he had spat on her without reason. He was about to throw himself to her feet and beg forgiveness regardless to status or pride. When he turned his body to face her and put an end to that stupid discussion he couldn’t ignore how pale she was at the moment. 

He saw her grabbing the edge of the table while her body swayed back and forth as if Arya wasn’t feeling well. Suddenly her body reclined back. Jon run to her just in time to held Arya before she could hit the ground. 

“Arya!” He called while giving light slaps on her face in attempt to wake her up. “Arya! Wake up! A MAISTER! SOMEONE CALL A MAESTER!” He shouted to the guards outside. 

Jon carried her to bed while waiting for the maester to come. When the maester arrived he immediately asked Jon to live the room in order to take care of the queen, who was already waking up. 

After a few minutes waiting for the maester to tell him what had happened to Arya, the old man finally came out with a serene expression. 

“Her Grace is fine. The faint was probably caused by some sort of commotion, but it is not unusual. She is in good health and the child is in no apparent danger. Her Grace should keep a good diet and avoid physical activities for a while, just as a precaution.” The maester said calmly. 

“Child?” Jon asked as if made no sense at all. “For how long?” 

“It’s hard to know at this point, Your Grace. Probably a month or so. She had no other symptoms and she claimed her cycled to be uneven. I believe she didn’t know. Congratulations. This is good news indeed.” 

“May I see her?” Jon asked immediately. 

“Of course. I only recommend for her to avoid stress at the moment, just until she feels stronger. I shall leave you two now.” He said before making a discreet reverence. 

“No one should know about it for the moment.” Jon said harshly. “The queen’s health and security are of extreme importance. Such news getting spread before the proper time might cause us much trouble. Thank you for your services.” 

Jon went back to the room where Arya was resting in bed. She didn’t seem happy or even slightly satisfied with the news. Her facial expression just told him that her only feelings on the matter was annoyance. 

He sat by her side silently without knowing what he could say to her. How foolish of him to lose his temper in the way he did. How unnecessary it was! What could have happened to her, to them? How could he even sit by her side as if he had any right to disturb her more than he already had? 

“How do you feel?” He asked shyly. 

“I’m still mad at you, if is that what you want to know.” She almost spat it. “You had no right to doubt me or accuse me in the way you did. I don’t even know why you are here. Have you came back to ask if the child is really yours?” 

“Arya, I’m…I’m sorry for what I’ve said to you. I shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid. I lost my mind out of jealousy when you never gave me reason to doubt your loyalty to me.” He said honestly. 

“You are only saying it because of what the maester said. It’s your dream becoming true after all. Tell me; were you afraid that your stupid rampant might have killed your child or something?” 

“Now you are being cruel.” Jon answered back. “I’m saying it because I have done you wrong. I failed in the first test, when I should have trusted you no matter what. With child or not, I would have thrown myself at your mercy and beg your forgiveness because I have been an utter imbecile. I could never imagine that you were with child. I don’t even know what to think about the news. It doesn’t seem real. What is real is that you accepted me as your husband. You trusted me and I failed you in the most stupid way possible.” 

They fell silent for a long moment, both staring at the wall across the room while trying to think about anything else to say. 

“You fucking stupid.” She finally said. “How could you even think that I could fall for him?” 

“He is handsome for a man, I suppose; and he has manners and all that soft speech. Pretty like a fucking rose, that one.” Jon answered in a grumpy tone. 

“For fuck’s sake. I like flowers, not men that look like one to begin with. Never cared much for manners or a soft speech either. I rather have someone that won’t break easily. I don’t even know why you suddenly felt so insecure. You are king and even if you weren’t you are far from being ugly or even plain. If I ever had the stupid idea of falling for another man than you can bet he would be more like a blacksmith than anything else. The thing is, I’m perfectly satisfied with the man I have, so stop acting like an idiot.” 

Jon couldn’t tell if she was saying the truth or only trying to reassure him. Even if she was lying to him that would be a thought for another time. Jon held her hand carefully before kissing her cheek. 

“How do you feel?” He asked finally. “With the news, I mean.” 

“A bit terrified, really.” She sighted. “The maester said I probably exercised too much and sometimes the faints can happen. I don’t even know what to think about it. I should be happy, but the only thing I can think about is how in the seven hells I will raise a child?” 

“It is a bit terrifying when you put it this way. I wouldn’t mind if we have had more time together before thinking about children, but it’s done. Our first duty to the realm was fulfilled.” 

“Not completely.” Arya replied in a practical tone. “You better talk to Lord Tyrell. You can’t afford losing his support now, not when thousands can die of starvation. I know he angered and offended you by saying that to me, but he is also aware of the fact that he depends on you to have his sister back. You have done so many things in such short notice. You rode a dragon, you won the war in the North, restructured the Night’s Watch and bit the Faith back to their proper place. You proved yourself to be king without even calling yourself so out loud. I shouldn’t have to remember you who you are or what your dreams are. I’m not your mother. This country won’t be consumed in a civil war because of me.” 

“What would you have me do? I can’t simply tolerate what he did. It’s high treason.” 

“What about our duty to the people? Jon, only the three of us know what really happened. If you think about it carefully, you’ll see that it was a blessing that there was no guards or maids to hear about it. What if he tried to apologize to us? Could you forgive him and get back to the commercial deal?” 

“He can’t simply walk away with it.” Jon insisted stubbornly, making Arya roll her eyes. 

“The Tyrells have walked away when Robert was crowned. They had been loyal to the Targaryens since Aegon I. They are survivors for a reason. They know when to bow, when to please, when to smile and when to gift. Willas will never get anywhere near me when we get back to King’s Landing unless there’s a good cause for him to be summoned to the capitol, but you can bet that he will spent the rest of his days trying to get back to your good graces. Maybe this is the time for you to force his hand to get the prices lower. Compensation if you must.” 

“What about Rickon?” 

“If they want to have the privilege of hosting my brother, they better pay handsomely for it.” Arya said. “I won’t bring Rickon here. He can be someone else’s squire. Let Margaery come back to HIghgarden and live locked up in a sept, like he agreed, but the prices of the grains and vegetables for the crown will fall like leaves.” He felt a sudden rush of lust at the sight of her cruel smile. 

“What should I do if he refuses?” Jon asked and her grin went wider. 

“He is guilty of high treason, is he not?” She said while caressing his face. “If you give a traitor a way to redeem and he spits on it, then it’s not your fault but his if he faces death too soon. Willas is not stupid to the point of testing the limits of your patience.” 

He brought her face closer to his just to claim her mouth. He was an utter fool for her, which was plain enough for him to see. Arya had him in a tight grip and Jon couldn’t care less about it. He would never get tired of her; he would never trust anyone as much as he trusted her. 

It took every fiber in him to part the kiss. The maester had said that she should avoid excitements for a while, until she felt stronger. Arya needed to rest for the sake of her health and their child. 

“I better go and let you rest for the day.” He said in a husky voice. 

“So soon?” She whispered close to his ear. “Why don’t you stay here with me a little longer?” 

“The maester said you should rest.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “If I stay here, you won’t rest at all.” 

It was only after a few minutes that Jon managed to leave the room and let Arya rest for the day. Although he was somehow more at ease with the health, that whole day was still being hard to cope with. 

He still had no idea of what to do with Willas Tyrel, but one thing was crystal clear. Their permanence in Highgarden was no longer an option that he could tolerate. 

Jon sent for guards to reinforce their security. He never thought that he would miss Brienne that much, but the truth was that the Lady of Tarth was by far the most trustworthy knight at his service and Arya liked her. 

He would have to face Willas eventually, but that wasn’t something he was looking forward. Although Arya was right about the need of the treaty, Jon couldn’t care less about it. The only thing he wanted was to gut that pretty faced fox and have his head on a spike for decorative purposes. 

He would never forgive the offense or Willas’ nerve. How could he think even for a moment that it would be fine to approach a married woman, his queen for that matter, with such blunt questions about what could have been. 

The fear of an answer and the idea of Arya not loving him as he loved her, have turned Jon into a fool. Maybe because he knew her all too well, the everlasting feeling that she might go away was something he could not ignore. He closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now there was a child to consider and perhaps being a mother would make her happier, or at least reduce the possibilities of her ever deciding to leave him. 

He would have an heir and that should be a cause for joy if he could ever forget that his own mother had died in childbirth. Arya was young and healthy, as the maester have said. Even so, his mother had been young and healthy herself. 

Jon went to the godswood seeking for some privacy and quietness. Maybe the gods would whisper some wisdom to him. A king he was, but his power was close to nothing whenever Arya’s affections and well being was in discussion. Instead of holly comfort, Jon only found his newly made rival, waiting for him near to a heart tree. 

Jon’s hand closed in a fist immediately while Willas tried to get to his feet with the help of his cane. 

“I am so deeply sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you, Your Grace.” He tried sound polite and genuinely contrite, but that wasn’t enough for Jon to forget his anger. “Her Grace, The Queen is not to be blamed in this. I was the one to speak in such improper way. If anyone is to be punished for this afternoon, it must be me.” 

“Are you suggesting that I would ever punish the woman I chose for queen instead of the one who actually offended me?” Jon asked with contained anger. “What sort of man you take me for?” 

“It wasn’t my intention to suggest anything, Your Grace. I just wanted to make sure that the queen’s honor wouldn’t be compromised.” And yet he had been the one to try to put Arya’s honor and loyalty in question. 

“For everything that I’ve saw and heard, it looked liked exactly the contrary.” Jon answered with his eyes narrowing at Willas, as if he could see for the first time something beyond that what his jealousy allowed him to see. “Wasn’t it what happened to your beloved sister? Wasn’t the doubt over Margaery’s virtue what caused her disgrace? I remember her name among the candidates, but at this point all the realm agreed that Margaery was no longer a viable option to take the position of queen for a fourth time. You have assumed a great risk by trying to frame Arya’s image and virtue in my eyes. You take me for some sort of possessive brute when you never took the time to understand the sort of connection I share with her.” 

“I do not doubt it, given the particularities of your former relationship with the lady.” Willas said it with a hint of disdain. “I just thought at the time that the lady might be interested in a partner not connected to her in such fraternal way.” 

“Is that something I should take as a reprimand? Are you judging me for taking the woman I called sister to bed?” Jon asked in defiance. “You seemed to have forgotten that I am a Targaryen after all. That kind of thought never seemed to bother my forefathers. Many of my ancestors would call for your head under such circumstances. According to the northern tradition, I would sentence you immediately and chop of your head myself for defying me and trying to put my queen’s honor to doubt. Somehow I doubt that you had ever cared for her at all. Everything about this ridiculous act tastes like a half cooked plot to get me angry at her, or even dispose of her like your sister was disposed of. This is nothing less than high treason.” 

“I do care for her. My proposal might have been a political act, just like yours, but Her Grace…” 

“Her Grace what? You defy me still! You test the limits of my patience and good reason.” He said with his nostrils dilated. 

“I might have considered that the queen could be replaced eventually. She is far too outspoken and powerful for the taste of most noblemen I know and not exactly what they would expect of a queen. Fools the whole lot of them. She is like a fresh breeze. Like those dreams of foreign lands, endless youth and unlimited aspirations. No courtesies, no calculated words, no bounds. Doesn’t my king agree?” 

“She was never meant for you.” Jon answered with contained anger for his audacity. 

“No, she wasn’t.” Willas nodded melancholically. “For all that I’ve heard and seen, I’ve never stood a chance against my king. I’m not a man of arms and military skills, I lack the youth, and I could never hope to make her smile at me and take my hand as gently as she does with Your Grace. I heard about the treason at the Wall and how you broke hell lose to save a girl that pretended to be her. I heard about the way an audience was dismissed as soon as Your Grace laid eyes on a petite lady called Arya. I heard about the sword you gave her as a child. I’ve seen the way she laughs with you and how she stands by your side with the ferocity of a she-wolf.” He sighed. “I’m not a hero of songs and legends and to conquer a woman as formidable as our Queen one might be nothing less than that.” 

“I should have your head on a spike for your audacity, but I won’t be the one breaking the rules of hospitality under your roof. Margaery will remain at King’s Landing until I decide otherwise. Arya wants her brother as far from Highgarden as possible after this whole situation.” 

“Fair enough.” Willas agreed. “I owe Your Graces apologies for my foolish behavior and I’ll accept whatever punishment Your Grace sees fit to my unforgivable acts.” 

“Against everything that I am and believe, you will remain Lord Tyrell and Warden of the Mander, as long as you pay for my mercy. A third of your harvest will be given to the crown and I won’t hear a word about the former debts. Is either that or your brother being named Lord Tyrell, while you live the rest of your days as nothing but a cripple without titles, wealth of prestige.” 

“I thank you for your mercy and justice. I shall live all my days in hope that one day I might be forgiven for my hasty behavior.” Willas bowed his head lightly. There was silence for a brief second, as if Lord Tyrell was trying to summon his courage to ask something. “May I ask about Her Grace’s health? I heard about a maester being called to attend her.” 

There was no surprise in that. How many men would smack their wives for that sort of thing, Jon wondered. Probably most of the noblemen in Westeros and beyond. He was at least proud of being more civilized than that. Robert had been a drunken brute and his own grandfather hadn’t been a good example either, but Jon was determinate to not be that kind of men, or that kind of king. 

“The queen is fine. Too much excitement combined with little food and a tight corset during the day. She just fainted.” Jon said harshly. “If you think even for a second that I would be able to lay a hand on her and live to tell the tale, you have no idea of the kind of woman she is. Not that I would ever attempt such a thing. I’ve fought hard for her and waited too long to have Arya by my side again. I would be terribly stupid to lose her for the sake of my pride or to prove myself a man through violence. I know what I am and I know the woman I married. That is more than enough for me.” He couldn’t help a smirk when Lord Tyrell looked at him with eyes full of shock. “You’ll sign the papers first thing in the morning. After that we will travel back to King’s Landing.” 

He turned his back on Willas and didn’t wait to hear another word from him. Jon felt tired as he haven’t felt for a while now. He only wanted to go back home and wait for his child to be born in a safe place. He only wanted to be alone with Arya again. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't like this chapter. It was a nightmare to make Jon deal with his jealousy and insecurity, while he tries to be a reasonable and good king. I still don't think I managed that, but I tried as much as I could. Willas is a necessary pawn in Jon's reign, although some times he shows little respect to his ruler by touching some very delicate points about Jon's relationship with Arya. There is a sense of superiority in the Tyrells that is shared by most of noble families and they simply don't see Jon as a worthy ruler, despite of his conquests. The thing is, Jon's claim is up to debate, but the power he has is not.  
> Although I've read that many of you would prefer for Arya to not be pregnant yet (and I agree with you) it is something expected of a queen. It is her ultimate concern and if Arya took too long for giving Jon an heir, her popularity would be damaged and soon plots to dismiss her would start. I would rather not deal with it, at least in this fic. Faints during pregnancy are not exactly uncommon. They can happen for several reason, like hyperventilating, excessive physical exercise, deficient diet, and so on (I did my research). Arya had spent the day horse riding under the sun and had a hell of a discussion with Jon which leaded her to this faint.  
> So far I loved all the reviews and you guys have helped me greatly by expanding my perception about the plot and the characters, so thank you very much.  
> I hope you like this chapter and as usual...Reviews are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice!


	11. Chapter 11

Jon had wakened her up before the break of dawn. He left the room giving orders to Viola to dress her mistress with traveling clothes and don’t ask questions about it. There were more soldiers in the corridor than the usual amount and all of them followed her in her path to the courtyard where the horses waited. 

Her king came to join them, with his sour face and bad mood. None of the Tyrells came to see them off. Their party departed, heading to the Mander, where another galley waited for them. This time the transport had been contracted by Jon himself, instead of being offered by Willas. 

Arya became anxious and couldn’t help looking over her shoulders while they galloped through Tyrell lands in a fast pace. She had felt like this before, when her family was trapped within King’s Landing and her father was executed. Jon had done little to ease her fears during their short journey to the river, focusing his attentions in getting their things inside the galley and giving orders to guards to keep her at the cabin and never let anyone near her until they were out of the Reach. 

Jon was acting suspiciously and the only explanation she could find was that the conversation with Willas had been exactly how she would have expected. When they sat sail it was about midday. Viola insisted that she should eat a bit more, but Arya wasn’t hungry at all. There was a knot at her stomach that made the task of eating quite difficult. 

She felt the gentle sway of the galley moving over the water, while sailor shouted at each other. She tried to get out of the cabin, but the King’s Guard prevented her of doing so. Once the boat was in motion Jon didn’t take long to show up at their cabin. 

He entered the cabin and asked Vi to leave them alone in a tone that could hardly be mistaken by anything but an urgent order. Jon poured himself a goblet of wine while Arya looked at her with curiosity. He gave her a discreet look, noticing that her plate was still full. 

“The maester said you should eat.” He said to her making an effort to be gentle. 

“I’m not hungry.” She answered without paying her plate any attention. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Our mission here is done. I have no interest in remaining under Willas roof for another second.” Jon answered bluntly. 

“I would believe you if we weren’t running away like thieves in the night. No one from the household came to see us out, you woke me up before the break of dawn and even got me on horseback after what happened yesterday. I know when I’m running away. I’ve spend most of my life doing it. I just want to know why we are doing it now.” She insisted. 

“I may have become a bit paranoid about this whole thing, but after talking with Willas, things just didn’t seem to be right.” He finally said it. “I send a raven to Tyrion last night and instructed him to get Margaery back to the Great Sept of Baelor and keep her under guard if we need any safe conduct.” 

“Why would you do that? What happened during your talk with Lord Tyrell?” 

“It didn’t sound right.” He answered. “The way he spoke to me, or about you…It came to my mind that he might be trying to frame you somehow. Why would he be so foolish to the point of saying those things to you? Maybe he expected me to be accompanied by guards when I found you. That would definitely force my hand to act against both of you.” 

“Yes, but he would be charged as well. That wouldn’t help him at all.” 

“The only thing he would have to do was to cut our food supplies just like the Tyrells did during the Five Kings’ War.” Jon answered. “This could lead us to another civil war, or even start a conflict when both of us would be still locked up inside his castle. I might be seeing too much, but I couldn’t afford putting our lives in danger.” 

“Have him signed the treaty?” Arya asked immediately. 

“I’ve made him sign last night. I couldn’t wait another minute.” Jon said while sitting by her side in bed. “I haven’t sleep. I’ve spent the night writing orders to Tyrion and Sam. Even sent a soldier to find us transport back to Bitterbridge.” 

“Will you charge him for treason then?” Arya finally asked. 

“I can’t, since there’s no evidence against him. Even if there was you would surely get involved.” Jon sounded tired when he said it. “I’ll have to deal with him in a more…discreet fashion.” 

The last two words spoke volumes. A shiver went down her spine all of a sudden. Arya was never easily affected by the thought of murder or anything of the sort. During the war and especially while she was still an acolyte in the House of Black and White, she had witnessed and committed such crimes. There was no honor in what she did, but it was either their lives or hers. She just never expected Jon to consider it. 

She tried to conceal her disappointment with him, but again how could she judge him when she have done worst? Jon was being practical, terribly reasonable about the whole thing, but the taste of it felt bitter in her mouth. Arya remembered how many times she had tasted poison until her stomach hurt and she felt sick. 

“Before you act, it would be wise to have someone looking closer in the matter. I know you don’t particularly like the idea of having a Master of Whispers, but in this case that would be vital.” Arya suggested. “Tyrion could find a proper one and we could let the man investigate and gather information. If there’s anyone else involved, we could bring them all to justice.” 

“Thought about that too.” Jon said with a sigh. “What Willas did will not go unpunished. I won’t allow him to live after his total lack of respect to us.” 

“And murder a man for being stupid sounds like a good solution? He might not be the mind behind the said plot. We don’t even know if there’s one.” Arya insisted. 

“Sounds better than wait for this to become an even bigger threat to us.” Jon said it and given his tone there was little that could be done for him to change his mind. “I have to think about it. He was bold enough to question our relationship, to suggest that there are those who would gladly dispose of you just because you are not considered to be suitable. It’s known how vital this marriage was to me, given to your connections. Without you I am politically isolated. If they found enough prove to charge you with treason I would be with my hands tied. Can you imagine the risks to our child? To yourself? I had to take you out of Highgarden before anyone knew, before there was time for him to think of something else. I’ve been betrayed by my own men before. I can smell treason from a distance. I won’t get you involved in this. Not now nor ever.” 

“You are right.” She finally concluded. “Do what you must, but after Willas is no longer a threat, you’ll put the Master of Whispers to use. If there is a plot going on, than you better know the names involved. They might be useful eventually.” 

“Of course.” Jon laid in her bed and closed his eyes for a while. “I wish that I could sleep. I feel so tired.” 

Arya laid on his shoulder and caressed his face gently. He had good reason to worry and to fear another treason. They never talked about what happened at the Wall, or how he dealt with the traitors. She never asked him about his said death and how he came back to life. They both had scars that no one was allowed to touch; even so they were spread all over the skin. 

“Sleep for a few minutes. Rest a little bit. It will take us a while to reach Bitterbridge.” She whispered to him. Jon simply nodded stubbornly. 

“I can’t. Not until I’m able to put a good distance between us and the Tyrells.” Jon kissed her forehead. “I never imagined this could turn up into this. You should have never been involved.” 

“I am involved and there is nothing you could have done to prevent it.” Arya said to him. 

“Maybe I should have named you regent while I was away. You would be safe in King’s Landing.” He insisted. 

“Are you sure? Who knows what I could have done as regent? Can you imagine if I commanded the builders to raise a temple in my honor? I could have the artisans creating a bust with my likeness, or redecorate all of the Red Keep with wolves’ motifs.” 

“I may yet have a temple built in your honor. As for the bust I would have it in my office just to look at your face while I work and I’ve always preferred wolves to dragons.” He answered with a smile on his face.” 

“There’s nothing I could do as regent to anger you?” She asked laughing. 

“I can’t think of anything now.” He said before kissing her lips. 

“What about changing the line of succession?” She finally asked. That made Jon startle. 

“What do you mean?” He asked looking at her attentively. Arya sighed. 

“I’ve been thinking about it. What if I give you a daughter instead of a son?” 

“I believe we already had this conversation before.” Jon said calmly. “We have been married for three months or so and you are already with child. Personally I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I’ll love the child all the same. If we don’t have a boy now, we can try latter.” 

“But a boy would be your heir. A boy could be king.” 

“And given to the Targaryen tradition a girl would be queen consort.” 

“No! I won’t have this madness going on.” She answered immediately. 

“Nor will I. This is something I would rather erase from this dynasty, but if you are worried with the future of any daughter we might have, fear not. Our princess will wish for nothing.” 

“Would you pass the throne to a girl?” 

“You know what the law says. I have no problems with being succeeded by a daughter, but you know how a change in the succession will anger most of the nobles. You are the one who warned me about giving a step at time, remember?” Jon said calmly. 

“Just…Just promise me that if we have a girl, you’ll allow her to have the same education of a boy and when time comes to find her a husband, you’ll do your best to find her someone worthy and honorable.” She said it out of concern. 

“As if I had any other plans for our princess.” Jon hugged her. “Fear not, love.” He caressed her still flat abdomen gently. “Boy or girl, we will love the child just the same.” 

She kissed him gently. Jon lost the battle against his fatigue and felt asleep for a few minutes. When they finally reached Bitterbridge the wheelhouse was ready for them and there were more soldiers waiting to escort them back to King’s Landing. 

This time Jon wouldn’t allow her to ride not even for a second. Arya remained locked up inside the wheelhouse during the whole journey, while Jon would go outside every once in a while to check on the security and make sure they haven’t been followed. He tried to keep her company as much as possible, but refused to touch her since the maester said that she was with child. 

Truth be told, she wasn’t feeling well, but she wouldn’t mind if Jon held her and caressed her boldly every now and then. Arya was feeling bored half of the time and sick the other half. Her back ached constantly while the nausea affected her intermittently. The only thing she wanted was to be at home and as far as possible from any plot. 

Jon was trying to dismiss her worries as much as possible, but his fears were written all over his face. She loved him for trying, though. No matter how distressed he was, Jon never let go of her hand and would try to keep a decent conversation whenever she seemed to be bored. 

Once they were out of Tyrell territory, Jon became a bit more relaxed and would easily fall asleep inside the wheelhouse while Vi would play cards with Arya, or simply chat about nothing especial. It was only during those long hours that Arya realized what it would mean for her to have a child. 

If it was a boy, it would mean her security as queen and the consolidation of Jon’s rein despite of what the lords might think of him. Even if it was a girl, that would give the kingdom some sort of hope of continuity. 

Particularly, she never thought how it would be to be a mother, let alone the mother of a future king. Everything about it sounded too terrifying to the point of make her wonder how Sansa had managed to have three kids in such a short time gap. What could she possibly teach to a child when she had almost forgotten how it was to be someone’s daughter? Of course Jon would be there to help her as much as his duties allowed and he would be a terrific father, but Arya had too many doubts. 

Would she be like Cersei and raise a monster? Or would she be more like her own mother and manage to raise survivors and warriors? What she envisioned for her child? A warrior king, a king that would rule with justice and wisdom, or a queen that would never allow anyone to think less of her for being a woman since she would be a perfect heiress to everything dear to Stark and Targaryens…Truth be told, Arya would give anything for her child to know how it is to have peace and to be loved. That was the only thing she could truly hope for. 

Days have passed since they left Highgarden and her discomfort was starting to get the best of her. Eventually even Jon had to agree that she wasn’t looking good. The pain at her back was making every position uncomfortable and the only thing she wanted was to rest on a real bed for a change. At least her breast weren’t hurting anymore, nor was the nausea bothering her. 

Viola noticed that she was pale when they finally entered the Crown Lands. Arya tried to reassure the girl that she was fine, just a bit tired from the journey. Tyrion came to them with some news about the investigations and some minor details that should be taken care of before a public announcement about Arya’s pregnancy. 

She couldn’t deal with any of that when she could barely stand on her feet. Her back ached terribly at this point and the only thing she wanted was a bath and a bit of rest. Jon kissed her forehead before she could leave the office and said he would go to her as soon as he could. 

Arya spent half an hour soaking in a bathtub, while Vi rubbed her back and tried to make her mistress comfortable. After the bath she dressed her nightgown and hoped for a quiet night of sleep. Her back still ached terribly and she had started to feel something like cramps since that morning. She realized that maybe she should send for the maester and ask for something to help with the pain. 

Vi had left the royal chambers and Arya remained there, waiting for Jon to come to their bed and tell her the news. Even when she was feeling so bad, his voice was somehow soothing to her. 

She suddenly felt the cramps getting worse. The pain was intense, so intense that she had to hold to her vanity table in order to keep her balance. She needed to send for someone. She called for Vi or any servant that might assist her, before even realizing the blood stain on her night gown. 

Arya looked down and felt the blood run cold in her veins. It was a kind of fear she had only experienced a long time ago. The despair of losing something precious to her and the cold sensation of loneliness. 

There was blood in her tights, nightgown and hands. She tried to call for help but her voice seemed to have frozen inside her throat. For the first time her wit failed her. Arya didn’t know what to do. She felt to her knees and cried without noticing while whispering a kind of prey that was until that moment foreign to her. Mother…Mother, please. Help me. 

She couldn’t tell how long she remained on the floor, only that it had been Jon to hold her and get her to bed. Help came to her eventually but except from rest, there was little to be done. 

Arya held to Jon’s vests tightly while he remained silent by her side, just holding her close and eventually kissing her forehead. She cried out of fear and the same pain she had felt when her father, mother and brother had been killed. She cried in the way she should have done years ago. Back than Arya hadn’t had the time or the luxury of a proper mourn period. There, within Jon’s arms, for the first time she could allow herself to feel all the losses suffered and all the pain endure. For the first time she was allowed to cry freely and grieve. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ready for the stones now.  
> Really, I've been flirting with the idea of Arya going through an spontaneous abortion for a while now. Until now they have been avoiding the talk about their losses and grieving. They haven't been allowed to mourn for their dead ones and had been terribly alone during this process. For the first time they will be able to do it in privet and with someone to share the feeling.  
> Their time at Highgarden also allowed them to understand to a certain degree that there are people trying to dispose of the queen to give Jon's rein a hard blow. I wanted to work a bit with this notion and how Arya's position becomes a bit more vulnerable with the interruption of her pregnancy. That also gives me the chance to explore a bit more of her bond with her siblings, specially with Sansa.  
> I hope you like it, or at least don't hate me for doing it.  
> Reviews are highly appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

He looked at the papers spread all over his desk and tried hard to contain his own tears. Tyrion had been very careful about the plans for the public announcement and the celebration to the birth of the king’s first child. To even think about it broke his heart in a way he never imagined to be possible. 

Jon thought about burning the whole thing, but the Hand insisted that they would need those plans soon enough. The king tried to hold to this hope, to take a deep breath and believe that what happened was something normal, as the maester had said to Arya, but neither of them seemed to believe that. 

They had just started to get used to the idea of Arya being with child. They haven’t had much time to celebrate the news, or even to be happy about it since Jon was too concerned about their safety and the need to get them back to King’s Landing. Now it all seemed to be of little consequence. There would be no celebration and no talking about a future prince or princess for a while. 

He should have been more careful with her, especially since Arya fainted. That should have sufficed for him to understand that she wasn’t supposed to be exposed to stressful situations or any kind of vigorous effort; but he ignored it mostly because he needed to if they were to get out of Highgarden. 

Arya should have never been left alone that day. She had complained about the pain and her face was too pale for his taste. Jon thought about dismissing Viola for leaving the queen alone, but realized that there was little to be done at the time. 

He had never been so scared before. As much as he tried, Jon simply couldn’t erase the image of Arya kneeled on the floor, looking at her bloody nightgown and crying out of fear and despair. At first he ignored the risk to the child’s life. He was more concerned about Arya’s health and if her life was in danger or not. 

The maester was called, but there was nothing to be done in order to save the child. Arya would be fine, the maester had assured him. She was young and healthy, she shouldn’t have difficulties to conceive again, but Jon wondered if she would ever be the same after such an event. 

She had been abed for nearly two month now and she wouldn’t stop crying. There was nothing he could do about it, not when he was barely controlling his own tears. If anything, that tragedy had made them experience all the losses they had suffered during the war and let their contained grieve take charge. Jon could never blame her for finally externalizing her sadness, not when he was so desperate for a chance to do the same. 

He was worried, though. Arya wasn’t sleeping well nor was eating properly. The maester visited her several times during those days, but he would just say that the queen was going through her mourn period and that should be respected. Arya refused to talk to him or anyone at all. Whenever he went to their room she would only hold to him and remained like that for hours, until she closed her eyes and felt asleep. 

Jon couldn’t help to fear for her health. He wasn’t sure if there was a proper way to go through mourn and grieve, but he surely thought that Arya needed help to get out of her sadness. The kind of help he wasn’t able to offer her. 

He commanded Sansa to come back to King’s Landing, bringing even her husband if necessary. He also sent note to Bran, telling about what happened and asking for his presence. To have Lord Stark and Lady Aryn in King’s Landing would not only serve to the purpose of helping Arya, but also help him to decide what to do with all the information gathered by Tyrion and his spies about the activities against the crown. It would be nice, at least for once, to not feel isolated or helpless in his despair and worries. 

Sansa was the first to arrive, bringing her children and her husband Harry. As soon as her party was conveniently accommodated at Maiden’s Vault, she came to him in a hurry. 

Lady Aryn presented herself wearing nothing but a simple black dress and no adornments in sign of mourn. There was no doubt about her sincere feelings and Jon was glad to have her near in such dark times. 

“Thank you for coming.” Jon said sincerely and Sansa just shook her head lightly. 

“I could never consider the idea of letting both of you alone now. I can only imagine how difficult might have been. How is Arya dealing with it?” She asked carefully, making Jon sigh. 

“I can’t say for sure. She won’t talk to me or anyone. The maester said she should stay in bed for a month or so, but it has been nearly two and she hasn’t come out of the room.” He said soberly. “I thought she might open up to you. You have been through motherhood and maybe you can help her to get out of her grieve. I have no idea of how I can help her, but I’ll do whatever it takes to see Arya happy again.” 

“I’m not sure if I am the right person to help, Your Grace. I have children of my own and I fear that she might take my presence as an offence, or a cruel reminder of what she lost.” 

“You are her only sister, Sansa. It even shocks me how much you look like your mother. You even talk like her sometimes. Maybe Arya needs that, a motherly figure or something like that. Someone able to feel such a loss in the same way she is feeling.” 

“Your Grace talks as if it wasn’t your lost too.” Sansa pointed. “May I ask you how is Your Grace dealing with the situation? Have you taken the time to cry and grieve too?” 

“I am grieving, but what would my subjects think of a king that cries?” Jon replied dryly, making Sansa look at him as if he had just said the most absurd thing she had ever heard. 

“It helps. You don’t have to do it in front of other people, but given the circumstances I think you need. How can you possibly help Arya when you can’t even allow yourself to feel the pain fully?” Sansa asked in a way that made him remember of Lady Stark talking to Robb whenever he was doing something he shouldn’t. That made him nervous. “I’ll try to help her in the best way I can, but it’s you she needs now. She told me about your shocking confession, about the feelings you have for her. Arya is confused about her own feelings and I can bet that she is desperate to have her best friend back. At least for a while, can you be that boy again? Not the king, not her husband, but Jon Snow.” 

“I don’t know. I can try, I guess.” Jon sighed. “Would you try to talk to her?” 

“Of course. What about the news from Highgarden?” Sansa asked gently. 

“I would rather talk about it when Bran arrives so we can all sit down and put our heads together. I also was thinking about bringing Rickon to be Brienne’s squire. I think he could hardly find a better knight to teach him and I would like to keep him closer to us.” 

“I think Bran will like it. He was concerned with him being sent to a strange place specially now that Rickon is getting more sociable.” Sansa answered with a smile. “I will go and talk to her now. Bran should be here in a few days or so.” 

Jon nodded and Sansa left the office without further talking. 

What an odd thing to suggest. As if crying could solve his problems, as if tears could wash away the pain he felt whenever he looked at Arya and saw her desolation. The plans he had for them. How many times he had dreamed about holding his first born in his hands, even when he was still bound to the Night’s Watch? He had never envisioned such tragedy, such pain. 

The whole in his chest became too great to be ignored. He couldn’t breathe properly. He couldn’t think right. The only thing he seemed capable of doing was to feel helpless before death and the incapacity of helping Arya to move on. How could anyone move on in times of peace? When Ned and Robb died he had been too busy with his own battles to take the time to feel. Now he was consumed by the sadness and guilt. 

Finally he did the only thing he could do at that moment. Jon cried silently, while looking at the flames in the fireplace. The sorrow became overwhelming and suffocating to the point of turning his silent cry into a convulsive sob. 

It was like that that Tyrion found him. 

Jon tried to dry his eyes with the back of his hand without much success. He was an utter mess, he felt like one. Tyrion said nothing for a while, just looked at him with sympathy before poring him a generous amount of wine. He sat on his usual chair and took the papers with the celebration plans out of Jon’s sight. 

“I’ll file these. We can always get them back later if needed.” The Hand said. 

“What kind of king cries like this?” Jon said grumpily. “What am I doing here? I’m not fit for this.” 

“On the contrary.” Tyrion answered. “It takes a lot of courage to cry and expose your feelings like this. I was wondering when you would allow yourself a proper mourn.” 

“How can I help her like this? How could I drag Arya to this madness?” Jon sobbed. 

“Now you listen. She accepted your offer and no one could predict that such a fatality would happen. None of you is to be blamed in this. I can only imagine how disappointing and heartbreaking it might be. You’ll cry as much as you need but once the tears are over you’ll take your responsibilities back and be the king that you are. Once both you and Arya get back to your senses, you’ll try again and I’m sure the gods will bless you with so many children that you’ll have as many descendents as Walder Frey.” 

“Will she ever come back to her senses?” Jon asked in a tone that could only mean defeat. 

“Of course she will. She is Arya Stark for fuck’s sake! He mother put a blade to my throat. Her sister survived on her own during the war. Arya herself had gone through the most hideous things one can imagine. Give her some credit. She came from a good stock and she is a survivor by nature.” 

“Sometimes I almost forget that.” Jon confessed. “She had always been so small and skinny. I used to think that she would break at the slightest tumble, but she never did.” 

“Arya will do just fine. Maybe we could arrange some sort of ritual. Some sort of memorial service, if you think it might help with the closure of the mourning period.” 

“It might help. I’ll try to talk to her.” 

“Good! About the information I managed to gather. Most of them are lords of the Storm Lands and Reach, being the Tyrells the major house in this along with the Redwines. I was considering summon all the major houses to pay you allegiance since you haven’t take the time for a proper ceremony in the occasion of your coronation with Daenerys still here and all.” 

“I’ll think about it in another occasion. I want to wait for Bran. I’m sure we can think about a solution to this later.” Jon said while rising up from his sit. “If you excuse me, I’ll see if Sansa had any kind of progress with Arya.” 

“You’ll never stop to surprise me, Snow. I guess I’ve never seen anyone as devoted to anything the way you are devoted to her. You are committed to your duty, but it gives one hope to see a king driven by a thing as pure as love.” 

“Love is the death of duty.” Jon couldn’t help remembering Maester Aemon’s words. “That means that I’ll never be a good king.” 

“No, but that means that you are a good man and no one that sat on the Iron Throne has ever been accused of such a thing. You are a fine ruler and you are even better when our beloved queen is around.” Tyring gave him an ugly smile. “Go get her back, Jon. I’m in need of some substantial conversation and cyvasse’s matches.” 

Jon left the office and went straight to his bed chambers. Viola was sitting outside Arya’s room looking down to her feet with red eyes. The girl looked miserable since the day Arya lost the baby and although the temptation of blaming the girl was too much to be neglected, Jon could see how sorry she was for everything. 

“Is lady Sansa still there?” Jon asked soberly. 

“She just came out and Her Grace asked for food. She never asks for food.” Viola said miserably. “I am so sorry, My King.” 

“Thank you.” Jon said in an attempt of kindness. He patted the girls shoulder and tried to smile at her. “It wasn’t your fault, Vi. There is no one to be blamed in this. Now off you go. I’ll take care from here.” The girl soon got out of his sight, probably feeling a little less miserable because of his words. 

For the first time in months there were candles lighted inside their room, making the place less gloomy. Arya was out of bed, sitting near the fireplace while sipping on her soup. Her hair was braided loosely, and her nightgown covered by one of her fine robes. It gave him some sort of relive seeing her looking more like herself instead of a shadow. 

Arya raised his eyes and looked straightly at him. Jon got closer just to caress her face gently and admire the way she closed her eyes and inclined her head against his palm just a bit. 

“You are finally eating.” He said gently. “I should give Sansa some sort of title for this.” 

“She told me you summoned her.” Arya said weakly. “Thank you, Jon.” 

“I didn’t know what else I could do to help you. I thought you might like to have the ones you love around. Bran will be here in a few days too and I’ll bring Rickon to be Brienne’s squire. What do you think of it?” 

“You didn’t have to do all of this.” Arya answered sadly. 

“If it helps you to smile again, than I had to.” He said while getting to his knees in front of her. 

Arya held his hand tenderly and smiled at him in the best way she could. Jon was pleased to see her plate almost empty and a bit of color back to her cheeks. 

“I am so sorry.” She finally said and the sound of her voice nearly broke his heart. 

“For what, love?” He asked. 

“I couldn’t save the baby. I failed again.” She said. “Just like I failed father, mother and Robb. I couldn’t save them and I couldn’t save the baby.” 

“Nobody could have.” He answered her. “It wasn’t your fault. It just happened. If what you say was true it should be me begging you forgiveness. I chose the Watch. I could have been there for Robb and father, but I took the vows. I should never have pushed you so much to get out of Highgarden in the way I did.” 

“You had reasons to do so.” She said gently. “I know how much you wanted this child.” 

“The only thing I want is you to be happy again.” Jon sighted. “Tyrion suggested something that I think might help us to close mourn.” 

“What suggestion?” 

“A memorial service. A ritual of our own.” He said. “To say goodbye to the ones we loved and lost. Maybe after this we can try to move on.” 

“I would like that.” Arya answered with a faint smile. “May I ask you something?” 

“Anything you want.” 

“Lay with me tonight.” She said it bluntly, taking Jon by surprise. “I need to feel…Alive again.” 

Jon didn’t say a word. He answered her with a tender kiss that tasted of tears. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that I almost needed a box of Kleenex to get through this chapter. This was sad, this was heartbreaking to write, but I hope to make them happy. I believe in happy endings and shit, so there will be one, eventually. I think this was important for them to close a cycle. They were still holding to everything they have been through during the war a to the guilt they feel. I hope you like it and as usual...Reviews are love!


	13. Chapter 13

It was difficult to even breathe. In the darkness of her room, in the silence of the long hours she remained without even having strength to turn in her bed, the only thing she seemed capable of feeling was the whole in her chest and the pain. 

The maester said it was normal and she couldn’t even find it in her reason for all the sadness that took her all of a sudden. She barely felt like a mother-to-be and the idea had been somehow strange and frightening until she lost the child. Arya couldn’t stop thinking about her father and mother after that. She couldn’t overcome the sense of guilt for not being able to save them when she had been so close, just like she couldn’t save the child. It was irrational and a part of her understood that, but she felt hopeless and burdened with it all the same. There is no reason in pain and she was simply tired of putting up a brave face. 

She haven’t cried like that in ages. Arya couldn’t even remember a time in her life that she had cried that much and it was plain enough how it was distressing Jon. He tried to help her in the best way he could, but whenever he came near her the feeling of guilt and failure got even worst. He wanted children, he needed them, and the look in his face whenever he came near her was just too much for Arya to take. 

It was like that how Sansa found her. Arya turned her face to see how was in the room and for a second almost thought it was the spirit of her mother. Sansa lightened the candles in silence, one by one as if she were in a sept. When the darkness was gone, she turned to face her miserable sister and sit by her side. 

“I came as soon as I got the message.” She said in a way that their mother might have spoken. The same way Lady Catelyn would speak to her whenever she was crying over a bad injure when she was too small to even learn what grieve was. “I am so sorry, Arya.” 

“Why are you here?” She asked and her voice sounded as if she hasn’t spoken in a thousand years. 

“Jon asked me to come and I would come anyway. I just…I just never thought that I would find you like this.” Sansa said while fondling Arya’s hair. “You have always been so…Strong and hard to break. No wonder Jon is worried.” 

“Can I have the right to go through this the way I see fit? Why in the seven hells can’t you leave me alone? Why can’t I cry if I damn want to?” Her voice came out in a harsh tone filed with the same vicious anger that she had felt for years, but Sansa didn’t even blink at it. 

“Now this kind of answer is something I would expect from you.” Sansa said. “I think you need to talk about it a bit. Say what you are feeling right now. Once you have done it, you will take a bath and eat something. Tomorrow you’ll dress properly and comb your hair. The day after that, you’ll find something to keep your head occupied.” 

“Why would I do any of this?” Arya insisted. 

“Because despite of what you might be feeling, you are still alive. You need purpose and you need to fill you head with something not related to what you have been through. It will be harder now. You don’t have a war to fight or the need to run for your life daily that might have helped you before, but you will move on.” Sansa’s voice was resolute. Arya could picture her mother telling her just the same thing and urging her to get out of her bed and be the queen she was. 

“You sound like mother.” She finally said. “I wonder what father would say if he could see me now. The failure I’ve become.” 

“He would never think that you are a failure. He would be as worried as Jon is, I guess. He would sit right here beside you and let you cry for a long time, but in the end he would say that it was time for you to get up.” Sansa answered gently. “Robb would try to make you laugh and if he couldn’t, he would try to drag you out of here or make fun of you until you were so mad at him that you would try to punch his face.” Arya muffled a sad laugh at it. 

“I failed them all.” Arya said while closing her eyes. 

“No you haven’t. I failed them. I told Cersei that father wanted to get out of King’s Landing just because I wanted to be Jeoffrey’s queen. There’s nothing more stupid than that.” Sansa replied. 

“That was really stupid of you.” Arya agreed. 

“I’ve never tried to find you or Jeyne. I assumed both of you had died. I trusted Robb would save me. I trusted a song to be real and it took me so long to understand that a song can never be true. At least I had the chance to cry for them, to mourn them while I was still married to Tyrion. You didn’t have the time to do the same. Free yourself from this guilt you feel. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened. No one could, really.” 

Sansa remained in her chambers until Arya was out of bed and properly washed. She dried her sister’s hair and braided it loosely before ordering for a light super for Arya to eat. Those acts of kindness and somehow motherly affection would never be able to fix her, but it felt good to have Sansa near. 

“How’s Jon?” Arya finally asked. 

“As bad as you, I suppose. You know, you don’t have to shut him off. You need each other now if you want to get out of it.” 

“I think I should talk to him. Gods…I barely see him these days.” She suddenly realized. “Will you find me something to do tomorrow?” 

“With all the information Tyrion has been gathering, I’m afraid you’ll have a lot to deal with in no time at all. There’s something coming our way and now is not the time for you to be like this. We need the she-wolf back. Until we know what is going on I’ll stay here; and I assure you that I won’t allow the queen to stay locked up inside this room.” 

“Thank you for coming. Thank you for…helping me in this. It had been…Awful to be alone all those years. I don’t think I could do it again.” Sansa kissed her forehead in answer. 

“I’ve done you wrong before, but I’ll be here now. I’ll help you to get back to your feet a day at time.” Sansa said it smiling gently at her. “You will have another child. You will have so many children that you will need to have a new tower built to accommodate all of them.” 

“I don’t really picture myself as a mother. I don’t even know why I’m like this.” Arya confessed. “It was just a small thing growing inside of me. I couldn’t feel it yet. It didn’t felt real until the bleeding. I think it was a girl.” She finally said it out loud. “It wouldn’t have saved the kingdom, but…It would have been mine. I could have named her after you or mother, maybe after grandmother Lyarra.” 

Now it was Sansa the one crying at the image of a baby girl. She hugged Arya tightly and kissed her head. 

“There will be other girls.” Sansa said. “We could go to the sept together, or the godswood if you like. We can pray for it, or pray for father, mother and Robb.” 

“I would like that.” 

She finally managed to eat properly that night. Sansa went back to her chambers and promised to get her out of bed in the morning. After she left the royal chambers, it didn’t take long for Jon to show up. For the first time Arya noticed how miserable he looked and they finally talked about what have happened. 

He laid with her that night and every caress was filled with fear and melancholy. At least he had made her feel alive again if only for a few seconds. She told him about the guilt she felt, and the emptiness. Jon hugged her and bagged her forgiveness for being so harsh about living Highgarden. 

Jon promised her a ceremony, some sort of memorial service not only for their child but also for her father, mother and Robb. He had new sentinel trees planted in their godswood, representing them so they would never be forgotten. 

When Bran arrived at King’s Landing, all of the Starks got reunited in the godswood, along with Tyrion, Sam and Brienne. All of them wearing black and solemn faces to say their goodbye out loud. Jon remained by her side as usual. He had a marble board carved with the image of a woman holding a child, with two men standing by her side. A beautiful representation of her parents and brother taking care of the child she lost that would rest at the roots of the heart tree. 

She still wasn’t feeling strong enough and every day was another battle for her to get out of the bed and face the world. At least with her siblings near, she wasn’t feeling alone all the time. 

Almost a week after Bran’s arrival, Jon summoned all of the Starks and Sam to a meeting. Except for Tyrion, none of the members of the Small Council would attend, which gave Arya reason to believe that whatever might have been discovered would have her as a target. 

Arya made an effort to dress up accordingly to her position. Her dress all black and grey, with her crown resting on her head. When she entered the room, all of the presents with the exception of Bran, raised from their sit to welcome her. 

“It’s good to see you again, Your Grace. You have been sorely missed here.” Tyrion said to her in a kind gesture. 

“Thank you, my lord Hand.” She answered. 

Once Jon arrived, the meeting started. Tyrion have spent the last months gathering all sort of information and finally discovered that Willas has been negotiating with the Iron Bank since Jon’s coronation. There were plenty of reasons to believe that what the Reach wanted was not to dispose of the queen, but to dethrone Jon who was considered to be dangerous to the interests of the nobility. 

To get rid of Arya was just one step of the plan. Without political support provided by her, Jon would be forced to find another wife and the Tyrells wanted to have the final world in the matter. Magaery was the obvious choice, but if she was considered unsuitable, the Tyrells had plenty of cousins to throw at him. Once the girl had a child by Jon, he could easily be disposed of. 

“We should summon all of them to renew their oaths to the crown.” Tyrion insisted. “Jon was crowned in a hurry, in the battle field, without time for a proper ceremony or even to take allegiance from all of the noble houses. Until now only the Riverlands, the Vale, and the North have declared themselves favorable to your reign.” 

“That would sound like a threat.” Jon replied. “Willas only would have to block our food supplies and we would be with our hands tied.” 

“The harvest in the Riverlands will start in a couple of months or so, the Vale will follow shortly. The weather has been favorable so far, the Reach is not your only option.” Sansa added. “We can afford being a little more hostile. You are the king after all.” 

“But another war will cost too much. We can barely afford paying the loans the way it is now.” Bran corrected her. 

“The dragon can always be used.” Tyron affirmed. “It would be a short war.” 

“Using the dragon is out of question.” Jon answered in a resolute tone. That meeting was going nowhere. 

With all the noise and the discussion, she was getting a headache. Arya hammered her goblet against the table, calling for their attention in a very effective way. All of them looked at her in astonishment. 

“Jon’s name day is coming.” She said it and given their faces Arya guessed that they haven’t understood her point. “If we summon them with no other reason than renew their oaths to the crown it will be too obvious that we have a trap prepared for them. If we must bring them all to the capitol, than we should thing about something none threatening.” 

“A celebration for the king’s name day.” Tyrion concluded. “I like it.” 

“I could be a tournament. It has been years since a tournament was held by the crown.” Sansa added. “The knights of the Reach are sure to come. Every important house in the Reach has at least one knight among their kin.” 

“We should summon all of the noble houses. Tournament, feasts, balls…You haven’t given the people a taste of entertainment yet, not even in our wedding day. We should do it right. A great display of power and you should compete as well. Remind them of your father.” Arya said it looking straightly at Jon’s eyes. “In the mean time, we can gather all the information on them and do the inquiries. Have them all arrested as soon as possible and for those who haven’t had the courage to show up in person, get their closest relatives as hostages.” 

“That could work, but what about Willas?” Jon asked. “I doubt he would even bother to come in person.” 

“Send him a message that would convince him to come. Promise to free Margaery only if he comes to deal with you personally to solve any misunderstanding that might have happened in Highgarden.” 

“We are forgetting one thing.” Bran added. “The Iron Bank. If they are negotiating, it means that they are getting ready for open war.” 

“If they are negotiating, it means that they can’t afford a war yet.” Arya said. “We have to stop the negotiations. Show the Iron Bank that we are a better bet. Tyrion, I want to know the name of the bank’s envoy and I want him in the capitol before the celebration starts.” 

“I’ll work on it immediately.” Tyrion answered it. “I understand we reached an agreement.” 

All of them nodded in approval. The meeting finished and all of them left the room, leaving only Arya and Jon behind. 

He came to her and held her gently before kissing her lips. He seemed relieved somehow, while she felt a bit more like herself. It would take her a while to come back to her sense fully, but with the plans for a trap in motion Arya would have plenty to worry about in the following months. 

“It’s good to see you here again.” Jon said with a hopeful smile on his face. “I’ve missed your advises.” 

“It’s good to be back. I guess Sansa was right. I need distraction, something to do with my time to help me to move on. This plan is sure to give me a lot of work and you…You better start to practice for the joust.” She said sharply. “We need to give them a lot to talk about.” 

“I can only hope that my mighty display won’t turn out to be pitiful one.” He tried to sound cheerful. “Would you like to compete? I mean…If you feel strong enough and the maester agrees.” He asked. 

“I never thought that you would suggest this.” She said it in confusion. “It would be good fight again even if it’s just in a tournament. Why are you suggesting it?” 

“I was just thinking you might like it. Besides, you suggested that I should make them remember of my father, so I thought we could put up some act. If I am to remind them of Rhaegar, you could help me by playing the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Let us tell the whole story.” 

“Will you crown me Queen of Love and Beauty?” She teased. 

“I guess I’ve already have.” Jon answered while caressing her face. “We will survive it, won’t we?” 

“I hope so.” She sighed. “Thank you for everything. Sansa and Bran, the ceremony, the board…I needed it. I needed to say goodbye.” 

“We needed it. They were my family too.” He felt silent for a while as if considering if he should say something or not. “Sansa told me you believed the child to be a girl. I think…I think Lyarra would have been the perfect name.” 

For the first time she had seen tears in his eyes and suddenly realized that she had never been alone in her pain. Jon had walked the same dark path, holding her hand even if from a distance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that this was the last of the heartbreaking chapters. From now on I'll get back to the politics and we are gonna have some fun with this fic. There is a trap...I mean, a celebration coming.  
> Although I agree that Arya has been a bit out off character in the last few chapters, I also believe that everyone grieves in a very particular way and the environment has a direct effect on it. I wonder if Arya would have managed to deal with her grieve in the same way she did in the books under different circumstances. I don't think she had overcome her grieve or even dealt with it in a healthy way in the books. The thing is, she had no choice back then if she wanted to stay alive. The trainmen with the Faceless Man, the revenge against those who attempted against her family and the objective of getting back to Jon had kept her moving from one place to another and gave her purpose. Now she has no war to fight, no mission to execute, no one threatening her life directly and Jon is by her side. It is literally the first time she has to think about what happened in her life and let her feelings get the best of her for a change. Once Arya has been a sweet girl. She used to pick flowers to gift them to her father, she was half in love with wolf pups, and she would play with the kids of Ned's tenants and banners. It's the first time she goes through another loss but actually feels safe enough to externalize her feelings that have been concealed and contained so far. I hope you'll get it.  
> Once more, thanks for the reviews and I hope you'll give me some more.


	14. Chapter 14

That damn plan would cost him a fortune to say the least. He had gone through the books several times, with Tyrion’s and Sam’s help just to make sure that there would be no mistakes. It would still be cheaper than another war, but Jon believed that he would have more chances to survive a real battle than that fucking circus. 

The invitations had already been sent all over the kingdom, while the plans for the festivities were at its full capacity. Arya had contracted a troop of mummers and several musicians from Westeros and the Free Cities. Sansa was helping with the plans for decoration while dragging Arya all around to supervise the work of the artisans so the queen wouldn’t be tempted to get back to her chambers and desolation. The security in the capitol had to be reinforced. The provisions had to be checked. He had to practice joust; something he had never done before. 

It was said that his father had been natural at it, but in the North the traditions of knighthood and chivalry had never been something usual. If there was a war, men would fight. If there was no war to fight, there would be plenty to be done in the fields. He had grown up with this notion, so none of the Starks had really been trained for knighthood or that sort of competition. 

Podrick and Brienne were trying to help him as much as possible, but the joust spear had never been Jon’s choice of a weapon. He liked blades. Good valyrian still was the best thing one could wish for in a battle, but that wasn’t a battle; that was a fucking farce. At that point, he was tired of failing at grasp the notion of not killing his opponent. 

Stay in horseback was easy enough, while aiming with the spear was the tricky part especially when he should go to the head or chest of his opponent without killing him in the process. What a stupid game that was. 

“I never really got the idea of these games. It is pointless.” He said eventually while trying to get out of his newly made armor. 

“It’s not that different from war if you are a mounted soldier.” Brienne answered while helping him to get out of his breastplate. “The weapon is different, but once you get used with the technique of holding it and keep the level, You Grace will be a superb jouster. We can always put you in the sword’s competition. Her Grace seemed to be thrilled with the idea of a good sword fighting.” 

“I was never a mounted soldier. I favor close combat. How is Arya doing with her practice?” He asked in concern. 

“She is getting her strength back. Her Grace shall be fine by the time of the tournament.” Brienne said gently. “It’s good to see her training again.” 

“And eating. That was a relive. Don’t force her too much. I don’t want Arya in any real danger.” Jon said once he was finally free from his armor. “I think the exercise will do her good and she definitely needed some distraction. Do you think she will be able to knock a few knights down?” 

“She has been able to dismount a few squires and all of them properly seasoned in jousting and battle. Depending on the list, Her Grace has a good chance of making an impression.” 

“I’m glad to know that. Is Sansa driving her mad already?” Jon asked in a more playful tone, making Brienne blush out of discomfort. 

“Her Grace has improved in occasions where Lady Sansa had spent too much time with her. I guess she is using the joust as a way to deal with her propensity to fratricide.” 

“That is a nice way to put it.” Jon tried to not laugh. “It’s good to see them getting along, but Sansa always had a talent to get to Arya’s nerves. I’m surprised that she hasn’t complained about it with me yet. I understand that Sansa has summoned the dressmakers today. You should expect for a tremendous display of Arya’s skills later.” 

“Not that I would blame her for this.” Brienne answered while making a face. “There’s nothing more irritating than dressmakers.” 

“I’ll have to trust your word in this.” Jon answered with a smile. “I think I need a bath before anyone else gets near me. I’m smelling rotten or something.” 

Jon left the courtyard and went straightly to his chambers in order to get a bath. Tyrion had left several reports on his desk for Jon to check later. At least with all the fuss about the celebration of his name day, he was busy enough to not think about the last months and how terribly affected by grieve they had been. 

Living a day at a time, as Sansa had suggested Arya. He was trying to do just the same and exercising had proved to be the best course of action for him. Jon felt more rested and alert. His mood had improved and he felt a bit more like the boy he had been once. He was also excited with the possibility of getting Willas in his own game. 

Jon had been informed by Sam that Tycho Nestoris was the braavosi envoy sent to negotiate with the Tyrells. It was the same envoy with whom Jon had negotiated the loan for the Night’s Watch when he was still Lord Commander, and Jon didn’t know if that would work in his favor or not. Arya had insisted that she wanted to talk with the man personally. He didn’t understand her reasons, but give her past in Braavos, maybe she knew how to negotiate in the braavosi way better than he did. 

Tyron was informed that Nestoris ship had a pause in Black Water’s Bay scheduled for provisions and minor trades. The Hand had already sent word to his loyal men to bring Nestoris to the Red Keep discreetly as soon as the ship was anchored. 

Once he was properly washed, Jon got dressed and got out of his chambers. Before he could make it to his office, Sam found him on his way with a concerned expression. 

“Your Grace! I was looking for you.” He said while trying to catch his breath. Jon would never get used with Sam using the title, but that was a complain for another time. “The master of the blacksmiths’ guild is here to see you.” 

“Oh! Good! I was waiting for him.” Jon answered excited. “I never thought they would be so fast about it.” 

“You really commissioned that?” Sam asked out of shock. “Jon…It’s not wise or even proper, especially given the circumstances.” 

“You shouldn’t have seen it before me.” Jon answered ignoring any mentions to propriety. It was a gift, nothing more. 

Jon went straight to the master blacksmith, followed closely by Sam. The bald man greeted him with a courtesy before displaying his new piece of work. 

It was a master piece and there was no doubt of it. The whole armor was made black to match his own armor, with a silver wolf in the breastplate. It had been made small, almost childlike to fit her perfectly and be lighter. The chain mail would cover her arms almost completely and had black and silver details around the neckline and sleeves. The helmet had been made a wolf only with more feminine lines. 

“This is perfect.” Jon said with blunt satisfaction. “Do you think she will like it?” 

“It’s surely a terrific piece, but I still don’t think it to be a proper gift. Wouldn’t Her Grace prefer a new dress? Perhaps a piece of jewelry?” Sam insisted. 

“This is hardly the first armor she will wear in her life. Arya has fought as her brother’s legate during the war and as far as I am concerned she took the vanguard when necessary. I just wanted her to have a more suitable armor, one made to fit her size and balance.” Jon answered in a practical way. “Are you sure it is light enough?” He asked the master blacksmith. 

“It is, Your Grace. Even a child would be able to wear it without much trouble, although I’m not sure if a lady’s constitution will do the same.” The man teased. 

“There are no records about Vysenia having much trouble with her armor. There’s no reason for me to believe that my queen will find any difficulties. She is a seasoned warrior after all.” Jon answered the man with a smile before paying him for his work. “That would be all.” 

The blacksmith got out of the room while Sam kept looking at him and the armor as if it made no sense at all. Jon was just too concentrated on the examination of the pieces to bother looking at his friend. 

“Jon, I know you want to please her, but…Her Grace just lost a child and is still recovering. Sending her to joust? Giving her armor? That is ridiculous. What if she gets hurt or what if she gets with child again? It’s too risky.” 

Jon turned to face Sam carefully. He gave a good look at him and wondered how Sam could be so incredibly slow from time to time, even when he was one of the most intelligent man he had ever meet. 

“Do you really thing that I would put Arya in danger after what happened? I agree that exercise is being good for her. She likes practicing and Brienne is worthy of my trust along with Podrick. She is safe with them. When she enters the lists she will fight against mummers she had contracted especially for the occasion. What we are doing is putting up an act. They wanted a chance to make me get rid of her, that’s what I’m giving them. The idea of murdering Arya while she is exposing herself in the joust will be just too tempting, except for the fact that we will be controlling the lists and half of the competitors. They will make mistakes, they will talk, they will try to buy the loyalty of those we have bought first. We will have all the information we need and before the celebrations are done we will bring them down.” 

“Is Arya aware of this plan?” Sam asked out of shock. “Who knows about it?” 

“Arya, me, Brienne and Podrick for security reasons, and you.” Jon said plainly. “You are forbidden to talk about it with anyone, especially Tyrion and Gilly. As far as they know, I’m half mad because of grieve and so is Arya. The news will spread and if I’m right the master of the blacksmiths will get out of the Red Keep and sell the information for the first lord who pays him. Obviously I have a spy following him.” 

“That’s a clever plan. It might work.” Sam answered with newly found enthusiasm. 

“I hope so. It’s our best chance.” Jon sighed. 

Jon only managed to find Arya by the end of the day, during their usual quiet supper. Her mood was terrible since she had spent the whole day with Sansa and the dressmakers. She was quiet, if not a bit angry in her gestures. He had to admit that it brought up some memories from childhood and a time when things were simpler. 

Back then Arya would simply escape the room and run to him until her mother gave up looking for her. Now she had little choice in the matter. She understood the necessity of it, but just wasn’t something she enjoyed, like most ladies did. 

He was satisfied, though. After those dreadful months seeing her like a shadow and refusing to leave the room, the sight of her eating, talking and walking around the Red Keep was something he treasured. It was just a bad moment, or so he wished to believe. There was hope for them. They could make it work. 

“I have something for you.” He finally said after finishing his meal. 

“I hope it’s not another dress.” She said suspiciously. Jon smiled at her. 

“No. It’s not. I know better than to give you dresses.” He answered teasingly. “Come with me.” Arya followed him to their chambers without questioning. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking before, but once her eyes spotted the suit of armor Arya couldn’t help a satisfied smile. “What do you think?” 

“It’s splendid!” She answered while touching the metal carefully. “What a fine work.” 

“It’s yours. The master said it should fit you just fine. I had it made light so you will be able to move without much trouble.” He pointed. “Do you like it?” 

“I loved it!” She answered with enthusiasm before kissing his cheek in a way that made him remember the day he gave her Needle. “Thank you.” 

“You are most welcome.” 

“I’m surprised that you are really stinking to the plan and letting me join the lists.” She said it with a discreet smile while caressing his face with unusual tenderness. “Sansa is furious with you because of it.” 

“She can complain as much as she wants. I think it’s a good plan and the idea of using mummers was very clever of you.” He couldn’t resist steeling a kiss from her lips. “We are better working together.” 

“The envoy from Braavos should be here in a couple of days.” She added, but Jon wasn’t worried about the plan or the envoy at that moment. He was more interested in kissing her neck and undoing the knots of her dress. 

“That’s a talk for another time, love.” He whispered close to her ear. 

Arya pulled him by the hair with more strength than usual, making him face her before she could take his mouth in an imperative kiss. Jon removed her dress blindly, while her nails scratched the back of his neck as the kiss got more and more ferocious. 

He missed her displays of need and dominance, the sensation of being desired by her even if he had never been certain of Arya’s feelings about him. She took his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor as he carried her in his arms while her legs laced him by his waist. 

Jon laid her in bed with little care. Her hair spread all over the sheet forming a dark halo around her face, while he contemplated her swollen lips and hungry eyes. He kissed her again and again, as if trying to suck the life out of her. Her agile fingers undid the knots of his trousers, helping him to get rid of his last piece of clothing in an ungraceful way. 

Arya touched him, teasing and provoking him just to hear him growl against the skin of her soft neck. As much as he enjoyed her devious touch, Jon never got tired of hearing her own sounds of pleasure. He rubbed that sensitive spot just above her entrance a bit, just to see her closing her eyes and let her mouth slightly open. He felt her sleek and wet, but he wanted to tease her a bit more by letting two fingers sink in her, making Arya moan close to his ear. 

“By the gods.” She said breathlessly and he kissed her in answer. 

He stopped just to hear her growl out of frustration. He could tell how close she was by the way her kiss became almost violent. She wanted more and she was not willing to wait for it much longer. 

Jon spread her legs before taking her in one single trust. Arya threw her head back and arched her spine in answer. Her voice, low and husky, let a half moan half scream escape as she mover her hips against his. 

Her hands grabbed his ass, trying to dictate the rhythm. Neither of them was craving for gentle and slow love making. If anything, they were half wild that night, desperate for the touches and screams they could take from each other. 

He was tired of sex that tasted like tragedy and sorrow. He wanted Arya blissfully satisfied in his arm. He wanted to feel her vibrant and alive as he dragged her to climax. He could feel her spasms and how her legs closed around him, allowing Jon to go deeper. She came without shame or reservations, letting pleasure take her body all of a sudden as he tried to seek his own relieve inside her. 

And so he did, spieling his seed deep inside of her. 

Jon rolled to his side of bed as soon as he recovered his breath. His arms around her waist as Arya tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. 

“I was thinking…” He said in a whisper. “When everything is over, we could go to Dragonstone for a few days.” 

“Why is that?” She asked half asleep. 

“To forget everything for a while. Tyrion can survive without us for a month or so. We could use some rest and a place that doesn’t stink all the time.” He said gently. “Would you like it?” 

“I think so. I would like to see Aegon’s table.” She answered languidly. “And sail to the island. I miss the sea.” 

“Maybe find some dragon’s eggs hidden.” 

“But for now…”She yawned. “We should just sleep.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are finally getting back to normal after those terrible chapters and the plan is in motion. Let's see how it will be developed during the celebration of Jon's name-day. I hope you like it.  
> Reviews are made of love. Give me some, will you.


	15. Chapter 15

She had been soundly asleep on top of Jon’s naked body in what was a very compromising position when Tyrion Lannister entered the Royal Chambers without a drop of embarrassment. Jon woke up in a hurry, pulling a dagger to the intruder, while Arya looked over her shoulder in annoyance. 

What in the seven hells was going on?! 

“What?!” Jon asked groggy, while Arya rolled to her side of bed and grabbed something to cover her naked body. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I’m deeply sorry to interrupt Your Graces in such…Inappropriate moment. It couldn’t wait until morning. Not without calling for unwanted attention.” Tyrion answered immediately, trying to look away while she dressed her robe. 

“What is it that couldn’t wait?” Arya asked grumpily. “Don’t you know that once these doors are closed no one is allowed to step in?” 

“I’m sorry, my queen. It won’t happen again, but I needed to inform that the braavosi ship reached the port about two hours ago. The man is here and he isn’t happy about our…Hospitality.” 

That made her senses to wake up all of a sudden. Jon was already on his feet and getting dressed just in case he had to take part in the negotiation. 

“Feed him properly or grant him any sort of commodity he might want. I don’t want the man in the dungeons. Find us a decent room to talk with all the comfort he might desire. Wake up my maid to help me to get dressed.” She commanded immediately. 

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Tyrion bowed his head lightly. “Anything else?” 

“That’s all for the moment.” Jon answered. “You may leave us now.” 

“At once, my king.” Tyrion said already making his way out of the room. 

She looked above her shoulders just to be sure that the Hand was no longer in the room when she spotted Jon trying hard to not laugh at the situation. Arya rolled her eyes at it, but couldn’t help muffling a laugh too. Tyrion has never been so silent before. 

“I guess we finally managed to shock him.” Jon said lightly. 

“Well. He asked for it once he decided to enter this room. It’s not as if we had ever kept separate chambers and…You know. We are married. These things happen.” 

“Sometimes I think that Tyrion believes that we live in semi-celibacy or something.” 

“Well, I’m perfectly entertained, as Sansa describes it.” Arya answered with a smirk. “Now off you go. Vi will be here soon and I definitely don’t want to shock anyone else tonight.” Jon rolled his eyes at it. 

“Fine. We can always shock people tomorrow.” He said before kissing her kindly. “You call me if needed. I’m not at ease with you talking with this man on your own.” 

“Don’t worry. Brienne and Pod will be there just in case.” She answered as a matter of fact. “You should sleep more.” 

“Or I could wait for you so we could do something else in bed.” He whispered close to her ear, making Arya laugh lightly. 

“Fine. Now you should let me get dressed. The sooner I’m done with the braavosi, the sooner I’ll be back to bed.” 

Jon left the room as soon as Viola arrived to help Arya with her clothes. There was little talk this time, since both of them were still half asleep. Arya chose a simple and sober black dress, with nothing that could give away who she was. She wrapped a cloak around her shoulders to keep her warm and braided her hair loosely before leaving the room. 

Tyrion was waiting for her at the end of the corridor to conduct the queen to the room prepared for Tycho Nestoris. The Red Keep was silent and dark as they walked the corridors until reaching a door guarded by Podrick and Brienne. They bowed their heads at the queen’s sight and opened the door silently for her to enter the room. 

Tycho Nestoris was comfortably sitting his high chair by the fire, while eating some hard cheese and bread. He barely looked at her, before taking a sip of his wine and that annoyed her somehow. He cleaned his mouth and put the napkin to rest before looking her straightly. 

“I trust my lord to be comfortable.” She said sharply. 

“As much as someone who was dragged the whole way from Blackwater to this place in the middle of the night can be. Why am I here? My papers are in order and as long as I understand to travel from Braavos to Westeros isn’t a crime. Why am I being treated as a criminal?” Tycho asked sharply. “Why did they send me a woman?” 

“Because it was this woman the one who demanded your presence here as soon as the ship was anchored.” She said before taking a sit. That seemed to give Nestoris a better idea of her importance. 

Arya poured herself a cup of wine and cut a slice of cheese before paying him any attention. She was hungry after all. 

“You claim that you have done nothing wrong by traveling to Westeros and I want to believe it, master Nestoris. I don’t believe you to be a criminal, at least not yet.” She said calmly. 

“And who are you?” He asked in defiance and suspicion. 

“I’m no one really, but I must confess that I’m terribly interested in your mission here. What kind of business could the Iron Bank have with Willas Tyrell, master Nestoris?” She asked sharply. Nestoris looked at her with carefull eyes, but answered with a pleasant smile. 

“I have no idea of what you are talking about, my lady.” He said politely. “I’m sure it must be some kind of mistake.” 

“Of course.” She agreed. “But we both know that discretion is part of the deal. In this case it means both your client’s security and your head above your shoulders. I really don’t need you to confirm something I already know to be true and have plenty of proof of. You see, if I wanted you beheaded or hanged inside this room it would have happened already.” 

“And what my lady wants from this poor banker?” He asked gently. 

“I just want to remind you that whatever business you might have with Willas Tyrell, the Iron Bank’s best interests rely with His Grace, Jon Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynars and the First Men. The one true king of the Seven Kingdoms.” She smiled pleasantly at him. “Hasn’t the crown’s debts been paid?” 

“They are being paid.” Nestoris agreed. “Not as fast as we would like, but they are being paid.” 

“Have the crown contracted another loan?” She asked. 

“No, my lady.” 

“Now that’s getting interesting.” She answered with enthusiasm. “If you are considering the possibility of financing Lord Tyrell’s foolish campaign against His Grace, I would like you to consider something. The Tyrell’s rely on their vast and fertile fields for survival. It’s their source of wealth and I admit it’s far better than gold. Everybody needs food and I haven’t heard of a man that survived eating gold. It is clever of you to think of them as a secure option, but I wonder if you know the effect of fire on fields meant for farming.” 

“Not my area of expertise, I’m afraid.” 

“But the Tyrells know. There’s a field north of the Reach that hasn’t been capable of producing a single rose for centuries since Aegon and his sisters unleashed their dragons. The battle was called The Field of Fire. If it comes to another war, His Grace will have no other option than to use his dragon. Otherwise it would be a waste of resources and this war could go on for a long time.” Arya looked sharply at him. “When the conflict is done, the Tyrells will never be able to cultivate their fields again and the Reach will be reduced to another vast desert. I believe that wouldn’t be good for business.” 

“No, it wouldn’t.” Nestoris answered weekly. 

“Now you’ll go to Willas Tyrell as it was arranged, or better yet…You’ll meet with him in King’s Landing during His Grace’s Name Day Celebration. You will think very carefully about what I’ve said to you and give Lord Tyrell a clever answer for his request. We will provide you with suitable accommodations outside the Red Keep and discreet protection for you. When the celebration is over, you are free to go back to Braavos.” 

“This is not a negotiation, this is coercion!” Tycho finally spoke out of fear. “I demand to see the King! I won’t talk with anyone without royal authority. This is outraging!” 

“I never said it was a negotiation. His Grace won’t be able to attend this meeting, but you are already talking with someone with royal authority.”She rose from her chair and looked at him one more time. “Now I must go back to my king and husband. _Valar Morghulis,_ master Nestoris.” 

“ _Valar dohaeris_ , Your Grace.” 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x 

It had been a couple of weeks since she talked with the braavosi envoy when the guests started to arrive. King’s Landing was flooded with knights and nobles from every corner of the country. All the heads of major houses had answered to the summoning and brought up their best competitors to fight in the jousts. 

There was a general enthusiasm in the city, especially among the common people, that would be able to take part in the festivities. Jugglers, musicians and mummers performed in the streets. Flags with the Targaryen sigil could be seen everywhere while children played with dragon kites. 

The northern noble houses arrived all at once, promising a great display of knightly abilities although it was well-known that knighthood had never been a part of northern traditions. Jon greeted them personally and thanked for their presence in the festivities which was taken as a great honor. 

Arya was thrilled by the sight of so many friendly faces. Bran had summoned all of them, just to make sure that if it came to a fight, they would be surrounded by allies. 

Several knight and lords from the Vale had sworn to win the tourney and crown Sansa the Queen of Love and Beauty, while their own uncle, Edmure, boasted that although he was not as young as he once were, he would do just fine at the joust and crown his lady wife. 

Even Bran seemed happier since Meera had brought with her a good number of cragnomans along with some very good news to her husband. Bran would be a father for the first time, something nobody had ever expected to happen, not even when the maesters had assured Lord Stark that it wasn’t something entirely impossible. 

Arya was happy for her brother and Meera, while Jon was a bit shocked with the whole idea. Although it was an occasion for celebration, she had to fight against the nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach and the bitter taste in her mouth. She had other things to think about and remember what she had lost wouldn’t help them a single bit. Once he heard the news, Rickon had come to her with a concerned face. 

“Can I stay with you?” He asked Arya without caring much about his manners. “I mean, if there’s no problems.” 

“We had been thinking on the matter. Jon wants you to have some proper training for knighthood and we agree that King’s Landing has the best knights to teach you.” Arya said carefully. “But why do I feel that you have other reasons to ask me this?” 

Rickon shrank his shoulders a bit and looked at his feet slightly. 

“He will have his own baby now. Bran already has so many things to think about that…I don’t want to be a burden. I also…I don’t want to be alone again.” He said sadly. “I could help you as a knight one day. I could protect you.” 

Arya hugged her baby brother tightly and kissed the top of his head. 

“You know that Bran would never abandon you, don’t you?” She asked sharply. Rickon nod in answer. “Good. Now listen to me. I will love to have you in court and I think it will be good for you to learn from me and Jon. You might become a knight, or take a sit in the Small Council, or even become a maester if you like. Who knows? I just want you to be sure that you won’t be alone again and Bran would never ignore you. I know this fear. We all have it since everything happened. It won’t happen again, Rickon. This pack won’t be separated again.” 

Jon might have heard this piece of conversation since he had made an extra effort to include Rickon in every possible activity during those days. Jon seemed to be really interested in learn everything about his youngest cousin and in return Rickon seemed eager to answer everything the king asked him. 

When Arya questioned Jon about this sudden interest in Rickon he just smiled at her kindly. 

“He suffered the most. He had no conditions to understand what was happening back then. He grew up without a father and a mother. It seems just natural that he is scared of losing the little stability he managed to find in Bran. He should really stay with us at least for a while.” 

“He looks at you as if you were some sort of god. Rickon often talks about Robb’s deeds and father’s. All of them things he learned from Bran once they were reunited, but you…By the time you were fighting at the Other he was old enough to understand what was going on. He asked about you every day. The fact that you somehow conquered death has turned you into Rickon’s favorite hero. You did what father and Robb could not do.” 

“What he thinks of you?” Jon asked slightly curious. 

“I have no idea. He used to follow me around the castle and the camps. Asked about strategy and weapons when no one else was listening. I think he trusted me in military matters more than he trusted Bran, since I walked everywhere in armor and actually gave the orders. He asked to be my squire once, but now I think he understood that as queen I’m not supposed to fight or have squires, so he will turn to you.” 

“We shall see about that.” Jon said with a smirk playing on his lips. “There’s one thing I wanted to ask you.” 

“What is it?” She questioned curiously. 

“Have you ever thought about riding a dragon?” Jon asked with a smirk that could only mean that he was up to do something shocking. 

“Of course I have, but I’ve realized that maybe that’s not a good idea.” Arya answered. 

“Are you afraid?” Jon teased her. 

“Never!” 

“Then it’s settled.” Jon said joyously. “We shall ride the dragon and fly around the city at the opening of the celebrations.” 

“Well…It will be a fine message to our enemies.” 

“So I thought. By the way, the Tyrells will be here tomorrow.” He said while kissing her cheek kindly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we got the chance of seeing Arya acting and putting the Iron Bank against the wall. Some sweet family moments and all the fun of getting Tyrion embarrassed. This chapter had it all. Next chapter we'll have the joust.  
> I hope you like it. Reviews...I really love them.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea of where this came from, but I guess that I was craving for some fluffiness and love scenes after so many disasters in the show. What can you expect from this fic? Lots of Jon x Arya love and all the consensualitty in the world. I hope you like it.  
> Reviews are made of love. Give me some, will you?


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